


Aspect and Essence

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Skip Trace Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2010-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anniversaries in multiples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aspect and Essence

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the Skip Trace Universe - Special thanks to Maygra and Charlotte C. Hill for creating and sharing this wonderful AU!
> 
> As ever, thanks to my wonderful betas, including Charlotte for her help with dates and times and ideas. All mistakes are my own!

__

"Love is something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essence"  
Vincent van Gogh

Thursday, April 17th

Buck watched as Chris hung up the phone, his face stretched with frown lines. His partner sat, tapping his pen unconsciously on the stack of papers before him even as his eyes stared down at them unseeingly.

"Chris?" He called softly, hoping not to attract attention from any of the others. He was sitting in a chair across the desk from the other man, the chair leaning back comfortably against the wall, so he had heard most of Chris' side of the conversation. He hadn't really liked what he was hearing, but to be fair, Chris hadn't committed to anything.

That's what he was thinking about now.

"You ain't seriously thinking about this," he said, his voice low. He glanced around, out through the open doorway; Ezra was at this desk just outside their office door with his earphones on – which didn't mean he wasn't listening in, little sneak that he was, but he seemed to be preoccupied with whatever he was looking at on his monitor. Nathan was on the phone, as was Josiah. JD and Vin were out checking on a few people who had court tomorrow and making sure they knew it; sometimes, they needed to be reminded, and having one of their bonds-people show up at their homes was a good reminder.

It also gave JD a little more familiarity with the personal aspects of the job.

"Lot of money, big case," Chris said equally as quietly. "We could stand a little positive publicity – and the money sure as hell wouldn't hurt either. Orrin's offering twenty-five."

Buck sighed, trying not to let the number get to him. Things had been a little tight lately, what with the cost of the new security system here at the office and the new van they'd had to buy after Buck had totaled the last one in a high-speed chase that had, unfortunately, not helped them catch the felon, and not justified the damage to the insurance company who had refused liability for the accident. The company had, however, paid for the damage to the refrigerated fish truck that Buck had slammed into to avoid the car that had run the red light in front of him. The only true consolation was that their van had been totaled; between Chris and Ezra bitching about the smell of dead fish, he'd have had to buy a new one anyway.

Of course, they'd lost the skip in the process which had cost them $15,000.00. Chris still used that as a one-word answer to most things involving money.

"Aggravated assault, felony murder – of his own brother? I know he's nineteen, but this kid is trouble. Hell, he cut off his ankle monitor, stole his mom's credit cards– his own mother! – and took a neighbor's car. He's trouble, he's desperate, and he's dangerous."

Chris nodded his agreement, but it was distracted. He was still thinking about it.

"Fine – here," he leaned forward, reaching to the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. "I'll write the check right now – "

"Buu-uck." When it made the name two-syllables, Buck knew better than to argue. Instead, he sighed, mimicking Chris as he sang, "We're not funding the business out of our personal accounts anymore. When we fuck-up, we earn it back, just like any other business."

Chris arched an eyebrow at him, like a grade-school teacher with a smart-ass student. "And why are we doing it this way?" he asked – demanded, actually.

Buck shot him a glare. "Because some of us were getting a little too cocky, taking too many chances with the equipment – "

"And with our lives," Chris butted in sharply. "Do you have any idea how lucky you were that you didn't get killed – or kill someone else, like JD – "

"Okay," Buck held up his hand, knowing the lecture and hating it – mostly because he knew it was right. They had gotten too comfortable with having extra money and the ability to buy their way out of trouble. And it wasn't just him – Chris had taken on his fair share of reckless adventures as well. It scared Buck still to think about it, to realize that if they hadn't had the money in the bank account, Chris couldn't have done some of the things he'd done – things that had almost gotten him killed.

He understood Chris' point, and let this drop, trying another tack. "Who you gonna send? Vin's been gone almost two weeks straight, just got back yesterday. He looks as rough as I've ever seen him. Josiah too – he's been gone almost as much as Vin. JD's too young to go alone, Ezra – well, I don't like the idea of sending him and JD in alone on this one." He didn't even mention Nathan – none of them did; the baby was two and a half years old, and since she'd been born, it had been unspoken but determined that their resident medic didn't do overnighters or anything more dangerous than tracking down local skips mostly on non-violent charges. Chris had promised Rain that he wouldn't get Nathan killed, and even though the promise had been specific to one job – to Vin – Chris had honored it holistically. "So it'd have to be you and me – "

"I've not decided," Chris cut him off, his tone sharp. "I'm just thinking about it." But he was looking at his monitor now, and Buck knew what he was doing – searching the net for news.

The story had broken last night – they'd been sitting on the couch, or, rather, Chris had been. Buck had been lying on it, his head in Chris' lap, one arm draped across Vin's shoulder; the younger man had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, his long legs stretched out to relax the muscles he'd pulled when he'd chased down a skip who'd decided to run across open pastureland. He'd caught up to the guy, but just in time to crash both of them into a metal gate. Those bruises were still livid and large on his hips and thighs, and even though he said they didn't hurt nearly as bad as the pulled muscles, Buck was still careful when he touched.

'In another story,' the blond reporter was saying, his eyes, with the aid of contacts, almost as blue as Vin's, 'police are on the hunt for Darius Wilson. The nineteen-year-old Atlanta man apparently slipped his ankle-monitor, stole a neighbor's car, and is on the run from police. His trial was set to start next week, but the proceedings may have to be delayed if Mr. Wilson doesn't return. He's accused of the felony murder of his brother, who was killed during an altercation between the two brothers over who was the better basketball player. Police suspect that there were other issues involved as well, but both the District Attorney's office and Mr. Wilson's attorneys have been quiet about the details. We'll keep you informed as the hunt for Mr. Wilson continues.' He smiled at the camera as he swiveled in his chair to look at one of his companions. 'Speaking of quiet, not a very loud day for Braves' fans – what's the latest word, Mike?'

Buck hadn't heard any of the sports report; before the news anchor had finished speaking, Chris was already moving out from under him. Buck shifted up, leaning on his other elbow, and beneath his hand, he felt Vin turn as well.

Chris didn't wait for them to ask, muttering, "Wilson's one of Orrin's. This could be bad."

Vin had looked up at Buck, frowning, and he'd made as if to move. But Buck had tensed the arm he had around the other man, stilling him. They'd sat and watched as Chris had crossed the room to pull a notebook computer off the shelf, booting it up, the settling it on the coffee table and waiting impatiently as Windows XP went through its interminable contortions.

"You think he's gonna call us?" Buck asked, leaning forward a bit to nibble on Vin's earlobe. Vin had smiled at the contact, as he always did, tilting his head to one side to offer more.

"Yeah," Chris had answered. "He'll call us."

And he had, of course. Now, Buck shook his head. "Boy ain't got nowhere to go. If he had, the cops would have already been there."

It'd been almost twenty-four hours since Wilson had vanished.

"His name's been all over the news for the eighteen hours," Buck said, "someone's bound to have seen him – "

"Buck." Chris voice was flat, and he hadn't looked over from the monitor.

Buck sighed. "Should I cancel the reservations?" he asked, leaning back in the chair and wishing the Nerf football wasn't all the way outside on Nathan's desk. He needed to get one of those trash-can basketball hoops for the office – half of it was his after all.

He hadn't really been looking for an answer – he hardly realized he'd asked the question until he felt the gaze on him, and he turned into it.

"What?" he asked, blinking, then remembering what he had said.

"Today's the 17th," Chris said quietly. "If we haven't settled this in five days, we really are in trouble."

Buck should have been reassured, and at one level he was. But he also heard the other part, the part that Chris hadn't owned up to yet. Chris had made a decision. Dammit.

*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*

"I'll go!" JD's enthusiasm shuddered through the crowded office with the intensity of a jet taking off too close. "This'll be great!" He was so excited he was almost vibrating.

Chris, still sitting behind his desk, was visibly tensing, his shoulders drawing back as if he had a cord pulling on them.

"Calm down, boy," Buck said, and Chris could feel his glance, just before his partner looked to the youngest of their team. "Everybody here's got a chance at it."

Trust Buck to make it sound like every one was as excited as JD was. Looking at the lot of them, Chris knew otherwise. As Buck had said, Vin and Josiah looked worn out. He knew Vin was; when they'd made love last night, Vin had been more passive than Chris had ever seen him, letting Buck do anything and every thing he wanted – not that he didn't usually, but last night, Vin hadn't even pretended to object. He'd enjoyed it – they all had. But he hadn't made any effort to control any part of it, and after he'd gotten off, he'd curled up to watch Buck and Chris, barely managing to stay awake until they'd finished. That was very unusual for him. He'd been the last one out of bed this morning, which had both Chris and Buck concerned; whether at home or on the road, Vin was the least likely to sleep past sun-up. This morning, Buck and Chris were on their way out the door before Vin had even made it to the shower.

"I gather the price-tag on this is rather nice," Ezra commented, his eyes on Chris. "At least twenty, but knowing Travis, not up to thirty, where it should be. Twenty-five?"

Chris managed to hold his grin, but it was hard. Ezra, the little shit, was that good. Or he'd been listening earlier. Chris was fairly certain that Ezra's earphones were actually linked to a microphone somewhere close to Chris' and Buck's desk, but so far, he hadn't found anything suspicious. He was still trying to figure out how to ask JD what he should be looking for without getting the kid wound up about buying yet more high-tech stuff.

"You in, then?" Buck asked, once more cutting off Chris' response. "You and JD?"

Chris did grin then, at the way Ezra straightened from where he had been leaning on the table in the corner, the one that theoretically Buck used, even though it had become yet another flat surface for catching files and papers; his eyes narrowed as he looked from Buck to JD and back. Chris could see him calculating his commission and weighing it against the stress of having to work with JD's enthusiasm and often youthful over-exuberance. And inexperience. Vin had been helping out, going out with JD as he had today, and even taking JD with him on some of the less-demanding road trips.

But Chris wasn't happy with the idea of JD handling this one, and he knew Buck wasn't either.

As if reading his mind – hell, at this point, probably doing it, Vin stepped up verbally. "I'll go, too. This kid's desperate. It'll probably take three of us." He was leaning close to Ezra, his back against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle, his arms over his chest. Not defensive, just tired.

That wasn't the answer. "You're already exhausted," Chris said, managing to jump in before Buck did this time. "It's not an option. I'm going."

He felt the surprise ripple through the small room, almost pleased when it settled, briefly, on Vin's face.

"Like hell." The words were sharp but soft, and coming from where he expected.

He turned and smiled at Buck, knowing that it reached his eyes. He'd been prepared for this. "Won't take but a day or so – I know where he is."

Surprise, this time manifest as murmurs, then Ezra's voice spoke up. "You know where he is? And you haven't told Travis?"

Chris glanced at the other man, who was smiling widely. "He'd only send us, so no, didn't see any need to share that piece of news with him yet. I only figured it out a few minutes ago, anyway." He shrugged, then grinned as Ezra's smile widened even more, his gold tooth flashing in the office's bright light.

"Why, Mr. Larabee! There is hope for you yet!" Ezra laughed.

Chris shook his head, still smiling, then looked to find Buck still glaring at him.

"If it was that easy, the police would have found him," the other man said.

Chris arched one eyebrow, pretending more disdain than he felt. "You think it was easy?"

Buck still glared at him, the lines in his face still tight. "I'll go with you – "

"I'm only gonna be gone for a day or so – taking Ez, and JD. Someone's gotta stay home and mind the store."

"I'll go and Ez can stay – "

"Not on your life," Ezra chimed up, just as Chris had known he would. It was almost – almost exactly as he had planned it.

Because Ezra wouldn't let Buck replace him, and Buck wouldn't insult JD by making him stand down.

Two hours later, he sat in the car, waiting for Buck to say something. Because Buck would, just as soon as he calmed down. He was almost sorry that he'd not taken Vin up on his offer to ride with him, but he needed the time to talk to Buck as soon as Buck was ready to talk.

The drive was usually about half an hour, but they'd left a little earlier than usual and caught the tail-end of the evening rush. It was going to take them a little longer than usual, which was good. He wanted to have this resolved before they got home.

Unlike Chris – and Vin, too, Buck didn't take long to find words for his mood. They were a little over half-way to the ranch when he said, "This is it, isn't it. If you ain't shot at at least once every four months, you start thinking you're old. So you're gonna take your ass out there and let it get used for target practice?"

Chris shrugged, trying to keep his tone light but serious. "We need the money, Buck. We promised we wouldn't loan the business money, and I intend to stand by that. It won't be that bad – the kid's scared, and yeah, that's gonna make him a little desperate. But I could stand the exercise and it's not gonna come off that bad. I've got JD and Ezra – Vin says JD's coming along fine, and Ezra's – well, he's Ezra. He's not going to let anything happen to himself or us, and he's gonna do everything he can to bring the money home."

"This your way of punishing me for the van?" Buck shot back. "I told you I was sorry and that I wouldn't take any more chances – hell, Chris, it scared me too – "

"I know," Chris interrupted. "And no, I'm not punishing you – you did that enough on your own." Even though, Chris thought to himself, if him taking this trip made Buck a little more wary when he was out himself, he could live with that side-effect. Buck had gotten too cocky, and even though he had calmed down some since the van-incident, it was too easy for him to get wound up in the moment and stop thinking about how bad things could go.

Buck sat still and silent for another minute or so before answering, "You fucking planned it. You've been thinking about it since last night – since you heard it on the news. Why, Chris? And why the hell couldn't you tell me?"

Chris didn't smile now; he understood Buck's anger - worse, it wasn't just anger, but hurt as well. He sighed, slowing as the cars around him did. The interstate was five lanes wide, and he looked up in time to catch a glimpse of the police cruiser parked just under the overpass.

"You been watching Vin?" he asked quietly, by way of answer.

As he expected, it had the right effect. Buck was still angry, his wide shoulders still set back against the seat, but the hard glint in his eyes lessened a little into a sort of wariness. "Kinda hard to watch him, the way he's been running himself ragged."

"Part of my point," Chris said. "Ever notice how he gets this way every year? I thought the first time that it was just . . . you know, this thing between all of us. That spring was almost a year since we'd met him, chasing his ass all over the US. Thought maybe he was remembering that."

Despite himself, Buck flashed a quick grin at the memory. "Yeah, that was an adventure, but thank the good lord we brought the boy home."

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "Last year, he kinda got that way again, and I thought maybe it was, well . . . "

"Us?" Buck finally turned his head and looked at Chris across the seat. "You thinking he was upset about us celebrating our anniversary?"

Chris shrugged again, but nodded. "He's always worrying about being the odd-man out – even now, I can still feel it in him from time to time, and us breaking off . . . " He glanced over at Buck. "I asked him though, last week. When he insisted on going back out on the Morris thing the day after he got back from Phoenix. Acted surprised that I would even think it."

Buck grinned, and his shoulders finally surrendered a little. "Explains why he didn't act at all surprised when I asked him the same thing when he got back from the Morris thing. Probably thought we were tag-teaming him." He shook his head, still grinning, but then the amusement faded. "But something's still eating at him," he said. "I know he's tired – hell, he's exhausted. That don't seem to stop him from going, though."

"No, it doesn't," Chris agreed, then waited, knowing Buck would see it.

It didn't take long at all before Buck nodded. "And that's why you said you'd go. Because you knew he'd step up for it."

Chris nodded. "It would be him or Josiah or you. I'd have let Josiah do it, but not you or him. 'Cause one of us needs to find out what's eating him, and you're better at that sort of thing than I am."

Buck snorted. "Not in this case – Vin ain't gonna talk unless he wants to."

Chris checked the mirrors, easing into the far-right lane as they approached their exit. "True. But the two of you together for a day or so oughta give you some time to work on him. Keep him home – hell, if you act pissed enough at me tonight, then you can argue playing hooky. Tired as he is, he might just take you up on it."

Buck turned to look at Chris again, this time shifting his upper body. "Damn, but you're getting as devious as Ezra," he said, and while there was amusement in it, Chris also heard an edge.

He took the exit, waiting until they had come to a stop at the intersection. As they waited for the traffic to pass so he could turn, he caught Buck's eye. "It's been three years, Buck. If it's us that he's worried about, then I, for one, am getting tired of it. And if, as he says, it's not us, I think we should all be secure enough now not to have these kinds of secrets."

Buck frowned a little. "I didn't realize there was an expiration date on when someone has to give up all their secrets in a relationship."

Chris shot him a glare that was interrupted by a break in the traffic. "Don't be an ass," he returned. "But this is something pretty big, and I hate the idea that something's hurting him like this and he doesn't feel comfortable sharing it with at least one of us."

Buck snorted. "Which is the same as sharing it with both of us," he commented. But he sighed and his head fell back on the seat's headrest. "If he's hurting, though, yeah, I agree. Still don't like the idea of you going out on this, though. Damn sure don't like the sneaky way you went about it."

Chris grinned. "You've just forgotten how good I am."

Buck laughed, and finally reached across the space between them, his hand falling to Chris' thigh. "Seven years, Chris – I don't think I'm forgetting." He squeezed, the contact warm and familiar.

Seven years, Chris thought. They'd known each other forever, it seemed, since they were kids. But the love – the realization of the love, had happened seven years ago. Three years after Sarah and Adam had died – almost three years to the day.

And three years ago, they'd gone after The Big Score – a half-million-dollar private bond on one Vin Tanner, and in the process of tracking him down, bringing him in, then helping him clear his name, both he and Buck had fallen for the soft-spoken Texan and settled him into their lives and their home. Or tried to. And still trying. It was easier these days, Vin was slowly letting go of his insecurities about them and about this non-traditional relationship.

But maybe not about himself, and that was, Chris suspected, where the problem was tucked away now. Of the two of them, Buck was the one better suited for this. His intuition about people was good, and his faith in Vin absolute. Not that Chris' wasn't, but unlike Buck, it often took him a little longer to get to the 'showing' part. He was afraid that they didn't have that kinda time if they were going to get to an answer any time soon.

Vin was in the barn when they got home – no surprise there. One of the first things they'd agreed on when it was decided that he'd be living in the house with them – and taking over most of the road-trips - was that with three of them, they could have the horses Chris had promised himself he'd have again. With three of them, one of them could always come home at night to make sure 'the herd', as Buck had termed the collection of misfits they'd gathered, was fed, watered, and let back into the barn if the weather warranted.

Even though, as misfits went, it was a pretty nice lot. They'd started small, three good mares, two geldings, breeding one of the mares that first spring with a stud from one of the local farms. The stud fee had been low but the horse had been good, and the combination seemed to be turning out well. The two-year-old loved Vin and even though he wasn't going to be much in the way of stud himself, he was going to be a good riding horse and possibly good for show. Vin was already talking about buying him out from under Chris, as a gift for his god-daughter, the oldest Reeves girl.

They'd added another mare the following fall, then, after breeding one of the other mares to another local stud, Chris had started thinking about buying a stud himself.

That was when Vin had informed them that he had one of his own. 'Two horses,' he'd told Buck way back when, on that damned mountain in Wyoming when Chris had been worrying sick about Buck. Buck hadn't taken Vin seriously, but turned out, he had been.

A registered Quarter horse, deep chocolate brown with a black mane and tail, but like his owner, mellow and easy to get along with. Also like Vin, he took his duties very seriously; all of the mares were pregnant now, and Muh-tua, as Vin called the horse which was nowhere near the name on the breeding papers, was lazing around in the pastures with the geldings. Buck was supposed to be arranging some stud service for him – Vin hadn't found the time, not with taking all the shifts on the road, and they'd taken him out several times already. Chris found it personally endearing – and Buck found it downright funny – that Vin acted like an anxious parent every time the horse went 'visiting'. Most of the times, Vin himself hadn't been going along, having to entrust his prize stallion to Buck's care. After the incident with the van, Vin had become almost paranoid.

Vin had pretty much taken up with most of the horses, coming to know each one as well as he knew his rifle, and loving them even more. He spent more time with them than he did inside the house – sometimes, Chris thought, he spent more time with them than with Buck and Chris.

"Beer?" Buck asked, climbing out of the car.

"Sounds good," Chris agreed.

"Wasn't asking," Buck grinned at him, "but telling. Seems you need to be mighty nice to me if you want me to play this game."

Chris snorted, but chuckled. He watched Buck walk the long yards to the barn, before heading into the house to change and grab the beers. Buck was gonna play this to the hilt, so that Chris would be the one picking up the work-slack tonight.

It occurred to him that he wasn't the only one who was picking up some of Ezra's bad habits.

Buck played it almost as good as Ezra; when Chris entered the barn, beers in hand, Buck stopped in the middle of a full rant about Chris' idiocies. He glared at Chris, taking the offered beer but not the offered kiss and storming past him out of the barn. He did call over his shoulder to Vin, "I'll start on dinner – don't be long. And bring the idiot with you."

Chris shook his head, mostly to hide his grin, as he handed Vin a beer. "He rant long?" he asked, before taking a sip of his own.

Vin shrugged as he too sipped. Chris watched as he swallowed, little sparks of desire flaring to life as the Adam's apple bobbed on the long throat he knew well.

"Let me go, Chris," Vin said after wiping his lips with the back of one hand while setting his beer bottle down with the other one. "You and Buck got the anniversary coming up –"  
"And I'll be back long before it," he countered, then, leaning on the stall, he said, "Does it bother you? Us –"

Vin held up one hand, then, inelegantly, flipped him off. "I'm only gonna say this one more time, so tell Buck that I told you the same thing I told him. I'm happy for you guys. I don't feel left out. I'd feel bad if I found out you stopped celebratin' 'cause of me. It don't bother me."

The temptation to push it, ask what was bothering him, was close, too close, and it almost got past him.

Fortunately, Vin chose that moment to say, "It'd do me good to get out, do Buck more good if you stayed."

"Bullshit," Chris snorted. He looked around for something to do, only to find, as he had expected, that Vin was almost done. "I've never seen you look worse than you do now, Vin – not even when you came off that mountain in Wyoming three years ago. You're exhausted. You need to catch up on some sleep, eat a few meals that aren't out of bags, spend some time here at home. Hell, the horses miss you almost as much as we do."

He held up his own hand as Vin pushed off the rake he'd been leaning on and turned to face him.

"And since looking after yourself ain't good enough for you, then how about this one: I could stand a little time on the road. I'd prefer to be alone, but I know better than to even toss that idea out – I'd have you and Buck to contend with, as well as the rest of the team. Hell, I suspect even Nathan would stand up to me on that one, and he's the easiest-going of the lot of you." He chuckled, moving over close and reaching for the rake. "I'm serious, though," he said more softly, leaning in to let his lips brush Vin's. "I could stand a little space. You know something about that, don't you?" He followed the words with a deeper, warmer kiss, his tongue slipping easily into Vin's mouth.

Vin gave in quickly, but when they eventually broke apart, he murmured, "You and Buck - that ain't the only anniversary for you." He'd let go of the rake so that now, he could slid both hands around Chris waist. But he didn't pull in close, leaving enough distance to look into Chris' eyes.

Chris thought about it, thought about how far into the lie he could go. This, though, wasn't a lie at all. "No, it's not. And Buck knows I still need to deal with it, too. Ten years, this year." He paused, the thought sinking in a little deeper every time he had it. Ten years since they'd died. He swallowed, closing his eyes. "Sometimes . . . sometimes it's too easy to be happy about being with Buck – and with you. I . . . I don't want to forget them."

Vin nodded, and something in his eyes told Chris that he did understand. Maybe too well. "You won't be alone, not with JD and Ez," he warned, still holding Chris' gaze.

Chris grinned. "No, but I'll be more alone than being here with Buck."

Vin smiled at that. "Yeah, and me, I reckon." He leaned in then, resting his head on Chris' shoulder.

Chris closed his eyes, and let the rake drop away so he could return the embrace. It wasn't often that Vin initiated this sort of closeness, not without sex, anyway. While Chris wasn't about to refuse it, he also took it as another sign that something was playing at Vin. And he didn't want it to be him, or him and Buck, or anything having to do with the life they had made Vin a part of.

"We'd best get in to dinner," Vin said after a time, but he didn't pull away. If anything, his arms drew a little tighter around Chris.

Chris kissed his temple. "Vin?" he asked softly, tightening his own arms and almost deciding to let the beer bottle join the rake on the barn floor.

But as he had expected, the question in the word brought down the walls that were so much a part of the younger man that Chris suspected he wasn't even aware of them. Vin shifted, not pulling away, but hunkering down, back into himself. While nothing in his posture or position changed, the openness faded and Chris had the sense that he was losing something he hadn't quite been aware of having.

"Don't need for Buck to get any madder," Vin said lightly as he pulled away.

But Chris caught him, letting the beer bottle go so that he could catch Vin's upper arms and stop him.

They had never needed a lot of words, and right now, he knew that anything he said would have been counter-productive. So he communicated the way that worked best between them. He held Vin's gaze, letting him know as clearly as he could that he was safe here. That he was loved.

Vin smiled, one of his very rare, sweet ones.

*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*

"Vin?" Buck frowned, standing in the door to Vin's room. Vin was curled on his side, a round lump under blankets, his hair the only visible part of him, spread over the pillows. The lights were off, the room lit only by the light from the hallway and the full moon shining from outside.

It wasn't unusual for Vin to end up asleep in here; they played a pretty dynamic game of bed-hopping whenever the three of them were all in the house together. The bed in the master bedroom was the largest, a California king, big enough for the three of them to actually sleep in when the mood took them.

But the three of them needed a lot of space for sleep. Even though they cuddled well, they were all given to high metabolisms, and it didn't take long, even in the dead of winter, for the bed to get too hot.

Even if they started together, usually within a couple of hours, Vin would abandon ship for his own bed. Buck was used to waking in the morning to just Chris. Sometimes, if he woke early enough, he woke alone, Chris having gotten up at some point and gone to cuddle up with Vin or start breakfast.

Sometimes, it was him who woke before dawn and went to find the younger man, rousting him for their morning run or just rousting him for better things.

Bed-jumping didn't bother any of them, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they usually started the night together in the same bed – sometimes for sex, most times for the simple comfort and closeness. When Vin had gotten up off the living room floor several hours ago and headed toward the back of the house, Chris had urged him to the big bed; Vin hadn't been home but one night, and with Chris leaving in the morning, they liked to cuddle in close.

Now though it was apparent that Vin had not only not made it to the big bed, he had consciously not gone there.

Buck's frown deepened, and he turned as Chris brushed up against him, stepping into the doorway as well.

"Don't like this," Chris said shortly, but quietly.

"Nope," Buck agreed. "What we gonna do?"

Chris looked at him, then back at Vin. "Guess we're sleeping in here tonight."

"Gonna be crowded," Buck said, but his frown was changing direction, "but it does bring back some memories."

The first time the three of them had gotten together had been in this room – a summer afternoon full of stress and tension and too much worry, Buck pushing Vin too far, Vin running, only to have Chris push him even farther. For a little while afterwards, there had been some tension, but no regret – not real regret. Certainly not enough to stop it the second time or any time after that.

Buck took a step, but stopped, letting Chris brush past him and take the lead. Chris was leaving at first light – whatever else happened, Chris had first shot at reassuring Vin, because he only had tonight.

Chris was near the bed when Vin woke, his blue eyes wide and alert. He was staring at Chris, recognition quick, but followed by a frown. Chris caught him as he started to move, and Buck watched the play of thought across the sleep-swollen face.

"You make a wrong turn?" Chris voice was soft and easy, his hands catching Vin knowingly at the curve of his jaw and the rise of his hip, rolling him onto his back before reaching to pull the bedclothes away. "You think we wouldn't miss you?"

Vin smiled sleepily, relaxing as Chris straddled him, knees at hips, arms at shoulders, their faces inches apart. "Figured you're leaving early in the morning, and you'd get more sleep with one less person taking up space." He closed his eyes as Chris lowered himself for a kiss.

But as his lips brushed Vin's, Chris said, "Ain't nothing more important that being with you and Buck." He hovered, unmoving, until Vin opened his eyes and looked up at him. "Nothing, Vin, nothing is more important."

They stared at each other in that way that they had, saying things that Buck could understand, even though he would have used words. After a few seconds, Vin blinked, accepting, then they were kissing, slow but hard, Chris taking and giving at the same time.

They were pretty to watch, always had been. There was an intensity between them that came from being so much alike, Buck knew, both of them quiet, thoughtful men who often preferred their own company to anyone else's. He wasn't like that, but he understood it. Had to, to cope with these two.

They made love the way they did everything else, with concentration and dedication, and having both of them focused on him at the same time made Buck feel like the center of the universe, like heaven was his at that moment.

Watching them go at each other made commercial porn look like crass and ugly; the way these two felt about each other was a visual effect that no camera or computer could ever replicate. It was in the intimacy and affection given in every touch, every gaze, in the soft sounds that were more than simple physical pleasure. Buck had learned something about himself several years ago, when he'd watched the two of them through a crack in the door, neither knowing that he was there; he's learned what they were to each other when they thought they were alone – and he'd learned that that was the same thing they were with him, all three together.

He'd also learned that he could find enough happiness in just watching these two together, and from time to time, he did just that: watch.

Vin was just at the threshold between consciousness and sleep where he was suggestible and pliable – it was near perfect state, as far as Buck was concerned, one that made Vin receptive not only to sex but to emotion as well. Not to speech though, so asking him anything was pointless. He'd drift back to sleep before the question was out of Buck's mouth.

But he'd stay awake and receptive for what Chris offered now. The tongue in his mouth would help, but then again, Vin was like the scrawny puppy in the litter, instinctively sucking on anything that came close to his mouth. Half-asleep, he still gave some of the best blow-jobs Buck had ever had.

Chris wasn't after a blow-job, though, he wanted the works. While his tongue lay claim to Vin's mouth, his hands were slowly tugging at the inconvenient clothing, a complex process as he had to keep one hand on the bed, supporting his weight.

Buck could help with that, and he did, edging to the foot of the bed so that he could stretch over Vin's legs and between the two groins, tugging at the loose waistband of the sweats Vin was wearing.

In the soft light coming through the door way, the bruises were livid, darkest purple at the center fading to grayish blotches at the outer edges. The colors were shadows on the perpetually tanned skin, mostly centered on his right outer leg, but rolling around the apex of the curve of his ass, then down his left flank, reflecting the roll he had taken on the fence, carrying the weight of their skip. The man had added a few bruises to Vin's abdomen and pelvis as well, a scattering of purple blotches on his hips that curved down to hide in the soft curls at the junction of his legs.

Unconsciously, Vin's legs flexed, reminding Buck of the tendons that probably hurt now that they were once more in use. Buck also noticed that despite the enthusiasm Vin seemed to have for what was happening - his arms were wrapped around Chris' neck, his upper body curling up to meet the other men, his cock was showing no signs of awareness yet, still resting quietly along his left thigh.

Chris, on the other hand, was tenting his sweats, as Buck was, ready for the pleasure promised. With amusement, Buck slid his hands up Chris' thighs, moving toward the waist of his sweats as well, but taking a moment to fondle the fine erection through the soft fabric of the cloth. There was something nostalgic about feeling someone up through clothing, reminding him of his short-lived youth and inexperience – something that had returned to him for a brief period when he and Chris had discovered the depth of their affection for each other, and then, once more, when Vin had come into their lives. With Chris and Vin, it hadn't been an ignorance of the vagaries of male sex so much as it had been the wonder of the emotions tied to it.

Chris moaned, the sound muffled in Vin's mouth, but the movement of his hips as he pushed against Buck's hand couldn't be described as anything other than a command.

Buck laughed, this time – even with his mouth full of Vin, Chris was still in charge and giving orders. The growl he got in return made him laugh harder, but he did reluctantly move his hands to do Chris' bidding.

Chris' erection smacked hard against his belly when freed, but Buck didn't have the chance to get the sweats off, just down Chris' thighs, before Chris tore himself off Vin long enough to order, "Slick," over his shoulder, then "Up," to Vin as he caught Vin under his arms and levered him to his knees.

Fast, then, Buck thought, scrambling to the bedside table to find the lube he knew should be there. And it was; he barely had it open before Chris was taking it from his hand, squeezing some on Buck's fingers as he said, "Do him."

Vin was on his knees, ass in the air as his head rested on the pillow, his hair covering the exposed side of his face. Buck could tell, though, that his eyes were closed, but his kiss-swollen lips were quirked in that little grin he got when he was unconsciously happy. It was a relief, in a way, not that he had been worried about Vin wanting this, but something inside him eased a little to know that Vin wasn't just letting this happen.

He bent, letting his lips touch Vin's shoulder as he murmured, "Coming in." Vin gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, but he hardly tensed as Buck's fingers drifted into the deep cleft of his ass, then over and into the small entrance of his body.

Penetrating either of them was always a joy to Buck, knowing that they wanted him enough to let him have this kind of control over them. While he enjoyed being on the bottom every now and then, there was always that initial instance of disorientation, that period of adjustment that he needed to get his bearings. Sometimes, he saw that on Chris' face as well, but it was always fleeting; Chris enjoyed topping or bottoming, but only, as he had made very clear, with these two. Truth be told, he pretty much only bottomed for Buck; Vin rarely topped, and when he did, he and Chris never quite enjoyed the switch.

Vin – Vin loved taking it. Hard and fast, or slow and easy, as long as it was deep and possessive and filled him up. Buck had no problem with that at all, especially the possessing part. He'd once asked Vin, jokingly, if he was this easy for all the guys. Vin had looked a little uncomfortable, a blush coloring his high cheeks, and he had mumbled something about knowing what he liked. Buck had laughed, understanding; Vin would spread his legs, when he wanted to, though he was a little particular about whom it was. But not too much.

Now though, as he slipped two fingers inside, feeling the heat and softness, something stirred in his memory. It was just a flash, almost in his consciousness until Vin pushed back, making that little sound in the back of his throat that was almost a whimper, almost begging. It made Buck's knees go a little weak, and he bit his lip as the flesh around his fingers gripped harder, wanting more.

He heard another noise, realized it was his own moan, then Chris' voice whispered, "Move," and his wrist was being pulled away, his fingers left tingling in the absence of contact.

"He's not ready," Buck started, but Chris was already in place and pressing in.

Buck winced, looked to find Vin's head up off the pillow. His face was still hidden behind his loose hair, but Buck could see the lines of concentration and the flicker of hurt. Not that it stopped Vin from doing more of his own demanding; as he had with Buck, he pushed back against Chris' invasion, taking as much as he could, as fast as he could.

"Vin," Buck breathed, worried a little that he was going to hurt, but Vin's hand reached out and caught at his thigh, pulling at him. Buck let himself be guided, knowing what Vin was going to do. Part of him was, oddly, reluctant, not wanting Vin to give this much, but most of him – including his throbbing cock – wanted exactly what he knew Vin was offering. That was the part that tugged his own sweats down past his erection even as he was folding himself to sit on the bed at Vin's head.

Vin's mouth was on him before his butt hit the cool sheet, the strands of hair tickling over his thighs. Buck hissed, fumbling to turn on the bedside lamp, trying to keep his eyes open to watch his erection disappear into the perfect suction, but it was virtually impossible to concentrate as the head rubbed along the roof of Vin's mouth then past the soft rounding into his throat. Concentration became even more difficult as Vin swallowed, the contractions of his throat undulating over Buck's shaft and the thick swell of his head and he clung desperately to his control as his balls drew up, release building.

Vin drew back then, giving Buck just a second of respite, and he took it, drawing a deep breath that seemed to blow over his cock; vaguely, he realized that Vin was breathing as well, and that Vin was pressing down again, consuming him, the shift of his body matching the long thrust of Chris' impalement.

Chris' hands were on Vin's hips, the blunt tips of his fingers showing white from the strength of his grip. In several places, he was digging into bruises, but Vin didn't seem to feel it, or if he did, he wasn't distracted by the pain. In fact, as had been the case from the very first time, Vin seemed to appreciate a little pain mixed in with his pleasure; tonight, maybe, he seemed to be liking a heavier taste of it.

The thought skittered across his mind, only to be blown away by the swipe of Vin's tongue over the underside of his cock as it was drawn back into the velvet throat. It wasn't going to take much this time, in fact; his body was already coiled, his hips pushing up to force more contact. He heard Chris's harsh pants, his tempo increasing as he drew close to the edge himself; Vin's nose was poking rhythmically into the taut muscle above Buck's pelvic bone, each impact a soft punctuation to the sounds Chris was making.

Then Vin made a noise himself, a low-pitched hum that vibrated along Buck's erection like a low-level electrical current. Buck arched, the orgasm surging from deep inside. In the way that it did from time to time, his senses seemed hyperactive and he was aware of things that he had barely noticed to this point. Chris face was blank, his eyes closed and his jaw tight, lips thin in complete concentration. A thin sheen of sweat shimmered on his cheekbones and forehead as he drove hard into Vin. He was trying to shift his weight, to reach past Vin's hip and under, to give pleasure as he was taking his own. Vin, though, had caught that hand, lacing their finger together and pinning it to the bed as he, himself, was adjusting his position, trying to balance between the activities on each end of his body.

Vin was sucking hard, the tip of his tongue like a whip on the stretched skin of Buck's cock. His throat was working too, convulsing around the flared head, so that when it erupted, Vin hardly choked at all.

Buck's next true awareness was of the stillness around him. He forced his attention outward, to find Chris locked in the rigid stance of orgasm, his muscles tense and defined in release.

An itch at his throat had him trying to lift his hand, only to find it snagged in Vin's hair. He'd been unaware of combing through the long curls as Vin had worked him to release, unaware of anything but what he himself was feeling.

Vin's mouth was still warm and wet around Buck's flagging erection, his tongue still lapping gently at the relaxing skin. With effort, Buck extricated his fingers with as little pull to the knotted strands as possible, then, with gentle strokes along Vin's jaw, eased the other man off of him.

Chris sagged, resting for a few seconds over Vin's back as he caught his breath. Buck smiled as he watched the squeeze of Chris' fingers in their still-joined hands, but he glanced to find that Chris' other hand still rested on Vin's hip – stroking now, no longer clutching. But neither of them had managed to touch Vin, to draw him to the pleasure they had had. They might not have needed to – Vin loved to be filled up, and often, just a good, hard fuck, was enough. But somehow, tonight, Buck didn't think that was the case.

Chris raised himself, enough to kiss along the sharp line of Vin's spine before tugging his hand free of Vin's grip. Both he and Vin winced as their bodies separated, Chris falling heavily to one side while Vin slowly sank into the bed, stretching his legs.

Buck moved as well, rising slowly on shaking legs. He pulled his sweats back into place, thinking to go into the bathroom and get a washcloth, but before he did anything else, he bent down, brushing Vin's hair off his face then cupping his cheek as he lifted him just enough for a kiss.

As ever, Vin's lips opened as he licked along them, and he slipped his tongue in to enjoy the taste of himself. Vin's hand rose, his fingers rubbing affectionately along Buck's wrist.

Buck slowly pulled away, leaving Chris to push up along Vin's side. He was in the same position when Buck returned from the bathroom, warm cloth in hand. For his part, Vin seemed to have fallen back to sleep, rousing only a little as they cleaned him up. He was reluctant to move, but between them, they managed to lever him onto his back, only to discover, as Buck had guessed, no evidence of Vin achieving his own release.

Buck sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair as he returned the cloth to the bathroom, rinsing it out, then turning off lights as he headed back to the bed. Chris was spooned around Vin, the bedcovers over them both.

Buck slipped into the bed, letting his arm fall over both the other men. This bed was smaller, forcing them closer, but Buck didn't mind right now. Chris was right, something was hurting Vin, and now it was hurting all of them.

He fell asleep uneasy, and woke the same way when the bed shifted a little while later – only it was hours later, almost five-thirty, and Chris was staggering toward the hall, and then into the bathroom off their bedroom to get ready to go.

Buck shifted, burrowing under the blankets and back into the pillows, sliding closer to the heat he felt from Vin.

But his inner sense of fairness prevailed, and when he heard the shower turn off, he forced himself up as well.

Chris was toweling off when Buck opened the door to the bathroom and slipped in. The steam from the shower was pleasant and he grunted in appreciation as he leaned against the counter.

"Vin didn't come last night," he stated without preamble.

"Didn't think so," Chris sighed. He hung the towel up and despite himself, Buck found himself appreciating that view. "Going to his room, lack of interest in sex, sleeping – I'm not Josiah, but sounds to me like we've got some classic depression going on."

He started for the door but stopped long enough to lean in and kiss Buck on the lips.

Buck smiled, kissing back before pushing himself up to follow Chris into the bedroom.

As Chris dug around for clothes, Buck said quietly, "Think I should talk to Josiah?"

Chris frowned, pulling on briefs and a pair of black jeans. "Talk to Vin first. No use letting this get away from us until we have to."

Buck grinned. "That you talking, or Vin?"

Chris snorted, but caught Buck's eye in the mirror over the dresser before pulling out a t-shirt. "On this kinda thing, I think I can safely say we think the same way. Ain't nobody's business."

Buck moved up to hug Chris from behind, leaning down to kiss him on that warm spot just below his hairline. "I'll talk to him. Still wish you weren't going though."

"I'll be careful," Chris promised, but his hands squeezed Buck's where they lay over his belly. "Promise. Now – wanna start some coffee?"

They stood for another few seconds, before Buck reluctantly let him go.

As he left the bedroom, he wasn't certain which one of them really had the more dangerous job.

*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;

Friday, April 18th

"You gonna hide out in here all day?"

Buck jerked at the unexpected voice, hitting his head on the open cabinet door above the washer. He hissed, stifling a curse, and holding on to his anger as Vin made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"I thought we could stand some clean clothes," he said, hearing the tightness in his own voice. "Figured someone should be doing something in the house."

He heard Vin shift behind him, heard the step of a booted foot stepping away, back into the kitchen. Away.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly, and with a sigh. He meant it – he was more angry that he had been caught doing exactly what Vin said – hiding out.

The movement stopped and he knew Vin was looking at him, watching. He leaned over again, shifting the load around to balance it, then closed the lid of the machine and restarted it. As the cycle started, he waited a few seconds to make certain that it wasn't going to start banging again, then, wishing he had some thought in his head as to how to go about this, he turned to face those eyes.

They were as wide and clear as they always were, but today, there was something more. Buck wasn't certain what it was – a sort of confusion maybe, a hesitancy that made him wary as well.

But unlike himself, Vin met things straight on. Even this thing that he seemed to have no idea about.

"You're mad because I . . . " Vin swallowed, and his gaze faltered, dropping. "It's not you, Buck, not Chris. Not the two of you. It's me – I . . . I . . ." He sighed, scrubbing one hand over his face. "Don't be mad."

"I ain't mad, Vin," Buck said softly. "Hell, you think it ain't never happened to – Chris?" He smiled, hoping Vin caught the joke in it.

Vin smiled back, but he still looked tired. And scared.

Really scared.

That was what Buck had been running from, since Vin had appeared in the kitchen this morning, getting up to see Chris off. It was something they had started soon after the relationship had become de facto – no matter who was leaving, and it was more likely than not Vin, they all got up. Fear was a motivator, as was memory; both Buck and Chris knew how easy it was to take the future for granted and to be jerked up short because of it. Vin probably did as well, even though they'd never opened it up as a point of discussion.

Given the nature of their business, and the dangers that went with it, they no longer made assumptions about anything. When one left, they all got up to see him off. This morning had been no different.

Buck had been in the kitchen, staring out the window as the coffee started brewing, wondering what in the hell he was going to say. When he heard the approaching steps, he had assumed it was Chris.

Vin, apparently, had assumed there was no one in the kitchen, and they had found themselves staring at each other.

Both embarrassed, yet for the same reason.

Before either could speak, Chris was there, pressing in close to Vin and hugging him.

There had been little time for anything other than hugs, finding the travel mug and thermos, and quick kisses good-bye. Vin had vanished out to the barn as soon as the lights of Chris' truck had disappeared down the drive, ruining Buck's plan to openly defy Chris when Chris couldn't see it by canceling their morning run. For his part, Buck had retreated to hide in the bed, hoping that if Vin came looking for him, they could distract themselves before any conversation had to be had.

Now it was two o'clock and while Vin had stayed in the barn, Buck had stayed in the house. A waiting game with neither knowing how to start or what to say – which, really, was the same thing.

"I'm just tired," Vin said, sounding sincere, and probably even hoping that that was really what it was.

But it wasn't and they both knew it.

Make or break, Buck thought. "Too tired to share the same bed?"

To his credit, Vin didn't look away, even though he did blush. "It ain't y'all," he said, his voice more quiet but still definite. "I just need . . . " His eyes did drop then, back to the floor.

Even though his head was down, Buck could see that Vin was chewing on his lower lip. He stepped close, not touching, yet, but in Vin's space. "Those are words we don't often hear from you," he said softly. "What do you need?"

They stood still, Vin trying to find an answer, or the words for it. Buck waited, wishing he had some idea of what it was. Wishing Chris were here instead.

Eventually, Vin shook his head and straightened. "I don't know," he breathed out. "Space, I guess. I don't . . . " He shook his head again, then turned to look at the window. "Before ya ask, no, I ain't feeling crowded, you and Chris ain't been nothing but great about leavin' me room," he rushed. "It ain't . . . I don't know how to say it, I guess – hell, I don't even know what it is."

His accent had gotten thicker, a quality Buck associated with stress and pain. He did reach out now, using just his index finger to trace a slow path over one high cheekbone. "You losing interest in us? In being here?" It was the hardest thing he thought he'd ever had to ask.

But harder was the silence that followed, before Vin finally closed his eyes and said, "No. I told ya, it ain't y'all. I thought maybe it was that I needed some time alone, but when I think of being away from y'all, from being away from this – it eats me up." He sighed, moving away from Buck and over to the window. "It'll pass," he said quietly, more to himself than to Buck. "It'll be okay."

Buck stood, watching, unsure. Part of him thought to laugh it off, play it as a game.

Part of him wanted to walk up and wrap himself around Vin and just hold on.

Before he could do either, though, Vin straightened, shaking his head slightly as if shaking it off. Squaring his shoulders, he turned abruptly, his lips quirking. "You had lunch?"

They fell into the routine easily enough, moving around the kitchen as they put together sandwiches and pulled out chips and sweet tea.

Buck did as he usually did, chattering about nothing much. He had called the office, checked in with Casey who was minding the phones while Nathan and Josiah were in court with the bonds who had had court today. Fortunately there weren't many and so far, all of then had shown.

For his part, Vin told him what was going on with the mares, how they were getting along with their pregnancies, how the other horses were and who needed what when the vet came out the next week. They talked some about training, some about showing, and when the topic moved on to Vin's stud, Buck made an effort to get Vin laughing and it worked, putting them back on familiar ground.

But he felt the unusual disquiet a little later, when, as they were cleaning up, he brushed against the other man. From habit, he reached out, catching Vin around the waist and pulling him close. From habit, he nuzzled against Vin's neck, loving the smell, loving the feel, wanting the contact. From habit, he let his fingers rub against Vin's hips, enticing.

But Vin didn't want to play this time, and as he pulled away, even with his smile, the tension between them returned. Vin wasn't interested in sex.

Vin kissed him, a quick touch of lips, then he was out the door, headed back to the barn.

Buck shook his head, sighing as Vin disappeared.

He lay on the couch, napping through the afternoon reruns of ER that he had seen before, stirring every time he thought he heard the phone ring or the door close. It was after six, the sun low in the sky, when the phone did ring. It startled him enough that he dropped it on the floor and it was on ring four, the answering machine ready to kick in, before he got it answered.

"Wilmington," he answered, not catching he number when it flashed across  
the caller id.

There was a short hesitation before a rough voice said, "This is Chanu Reeves."

Buck smiled. "Hey, it's Buck."

"Buck," Chanu's voice was polite but distant. "I'm returning Vin's call - he around? He's not answering his cell."

"He's out in the barn right now – you want me to get him? I can – "

"No, no," Reeves cut him off, "no need. Just let him know . . ." There was a pause, as if he was thinking about something, about what to say.

Buck frowned, his mind working at several different thoughts at one time. Vin had called Chanu – not a surprise, really, they were as good as brothers, closer in some ways, what with their shared history, but maybe . . . maybe Vin had called him for a reason. The thought worried at Buck – Chanu didn't quite approve of the relationship between the three of them, and he worried for Vin. It was something Buck appreciated – but Chanu was also someone Vin would turn to if he felt the need to get out. If Vin were talking to Chanu now . . .

And if Chris was right, and Vin had been going through something this time every year, then maybe Chanu knew what it was. Maybe Chanu could help him.

"Is he all right?"

The question was so unexpected that Buck stilled, looking at the phone before saying, "What?"

He heard the frown in Chanu's voice as he repeated more slowly, "Is Vin all right? He doesn't usually call in the middle of the day unless something's wrong."

Buck huffed out a breath, not quite sure how to answer the question. Not sure how honest to be.

"Buck?" Chanu prompted, an edge to his voice.

"He's okay," Buck rushed then, understanding the base component of the fear. "Physically, I mean. Tired – he's been working his ass off, literally. We can't seem to get him to slow down."

There was silence for a few seconds, then Chanu made a little sound, sort of a cross between a sigh and a laugh. "He gets that way," he said. "Haven't you noticed?"

Buck smiled, hearing the affection in the other's voice and ignoring the censure. "Yeah, but we thought we had it sorted. Seems we don't."

Another brief pause, then Chanu asked slowly, "So, he hasn't told you what it is?"

Buck frowned. "I get the sense he doesn't know what it is," he answered, suspicious.

Chanu sighed. "Maybe he doesn't," he said, or Buck thought he said. The words were so soft that he couldn't quite tell.

"What?" he said, pushing. "Chanu, is there something we should know?"

There was silence on the other end, and it stirred an anger Buck hadn't realized he had. "Goddammit," he snarled into the phone, "Vin's upset about something, something that's driving him to the point that he's gonna get himself killed if he doesn't slow down. If there's something you know that can help us help him – "

"If I knew anything that I thought would help you help Vin, I would tell you," Reeves said, and even though his tone was sharp, there was a sincerity in it that took some of the sting out of it. "Vin is family to me. He is also my friend." He paused again, then said, "Tell him I called and he can call me back."

Buck closed his eyes. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just . . . we're worried. He's not himself right now."

There was another pause on the other end, as Buck could also see the other man weighing his words. "He . . . gets this way," he said finally, and again so softly that Buck barely heard it. "It will pass – he will remember that it was never as he thought it was."

The words were confusing but before Buck could ask for clarification, Chanu said, "Tell him I called." With that, he hung up, leaving Buck staring at the wall.

He stayed that way for while, playing the conversation through in his head several times. It took a while, but eventually, it started to click together.

He had as much as he knew he was going to get from it alone by the time the phone rang again – Chris.

"Darlin'!" he answered loudly, hoping Ezra would be close enough to hear it."

Sure enough, behind Chris' soft chuckle, he heard Ezra's groan. "Buck," Chris answered, "how are things there?"

"No changes," he answered, but he knew Chris heard the smile in his voice and would take it for what it was worth – a start. "You boys coming home already?"

"Not quite yet, but by morning," Chris predicted over the general chatter in the background. Ezra sniping and JD laughing, Buck knew. "We've got his location nailed down."

Buck shook his head. "Damn, boy, you're almost as good as you think you are."

Chris snorted into the phone. "Cullowee ain't that big," he said, "even though we did almost lose JD at a wireless café."

"I was just trying to help out!" JD's voice was shrill in the background.

"And we are certain Miss Wells will appreciate your generosity," Ezra retorted. "How much did you offer me to forget to mention that the young lady you were assisting was blond, shapely, and wearing some sort of spandex outfit?"

Despite himself, Buck laughed. "Chris, can't you keep the boy in line any better than that?" he chortled.

"He's been around you too damned much," Chris shot back, but his voice wasn't as grim as Buck had expected it to be. Maybe he really had needed this trip. "We think Wilson's in one of the student apartment complexes. We're going to check it out now. Just wanted to see how things were there."

"They have made it out of bed – please, tell me they aren't still in bed," Ezra sniped again. "Was it wise to leave the two of them alone together?"

"Tell Ez that we're up – in all the ways that matter," Buck said loudly, hoping it carried as well.

"Perverts!" Ezra called back.

Before Buck could answer, Chris cut in, "You two get anything done today?"

"All the laundry's done, the kitchen's clean, and Vin has been in the barn since you left – he did come in for lunch, and I expect him back anytime now." He glanced out the window, not surprised to see dusk settling in.

"You're hiding out in the house and he's hiding out in the barn," Chris sighed.

"Who's hiding out?" JD asked in the background. "Buck and Vin are fighting?"

"I'm not hiding out!" Buck said, annoyed more than he should be. "Look, I just got off the phone with Chanu – "

"What?" Chris interrupted, the edge in his voice silencing the two men with him.

Buck rushed to answer before anything else was said. "He called looking for Vin, I didn't call him. I also didn't ask him – well, I didn't ask him much and he didn't say much."

Chris was quiet for a second, long enough for Buck to hear Ezra say, "This is worse than Queer As Folk – and without the benefit of attractive lesbians."

"That's The L Word," JD said with a snort.

"But he said enough," Chris mused quietly.

"I got some ideas," Buck answered. "It's getting dark. You guys be careful and call me, let me know what's going on."

"We will," Chris answered. "Buck – he thinking of running again?"

The question was almost a whisper, more to keep it away from Ezra and JD, Buck knew. But he also knew it was because Chris was scared, like he was.

"Says he's not," he said. "Let me work on this some. We'll get it sorted."

"Do that," Chris answered, and Buck connected two lines suddenly – ten years since losing Sarah and Adam, and maybe losing Vin.

"I will, Chris," he promised, not liking the fear he knew he was hearing. "You just get back here in one piece."

Chris actually said, "I love you" before he hung up, mostly Buck thought to make Ezra gag. He sat for a few minutes afterward, thinking.

Then he made one more phone call, to the person who had taught him everything there was to know about reading people and helping them. As ever, her advice was to be patient. "He's a sweet boy, Buck," his mom said, and he knew she was smiling. She'd taken a real shine to Vin, falling in love with his quiet politeness as easily as Buck had. "But he doesn't trust himself, doesn't trust that he's got what it takes to hold on to something good. You gotta show him, and remember, honey, hard as it is to believe, it's not always about sex."

That had made him stop and think about it. "Thanks, Ma," he'd said, meaning it.

The sun was down – had been down for a while, when Vin finally retreated to the house.

He slipped in, shrugging out of his boots and outer shirt in the laundry room before slipping into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, which was where Buck found him as he eased into the kitchen himself.

"Sally's is open until ten," he said, then, despite himself, he chuckled as Vin jerked up too fast and hit his head on the refrigerator door. They were even now for the laundry room this afternoon.

"Dammit, Buck," Vin snapped, rubbing at his head with one hand.

"I made reservations for eight-thirty. Gives you about half an hour to get all prettied-up." He was leaning on the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

Vin turned, staring at him for a second. "Sally's? What's up?" There was a tightness in his voice that Buck had expected but didn't really want to hear.

Buck shrugged. "We don't get many chances to go out, and I thought you might feel better if you weren't trapped here alone with me." He didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, tinged in bitterness, but it made Vin flush a little, his face darkening in the soft light of the open refrigerator and the light over the sink.

"I don't feel trapped," he mumbled, but he reached back into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, which he offered to Buck.

Buck shook his head no, and watched when Vin put it back in the refrigerator unopened. Vin took water for himself and closed the fridge, leaning back on it as he sipped.

"How about a nice dinner, good conversation – no pressure, no expectations, just you and me. Sure will beat hiding out in your bedroom all night."

Vin shook his head, but he smiled slightly. "I ain't scared of you," he said. "I told you, I'm just tired."

"Well, then, a nice dinner and an early night will help. You'll be a new man in the morning. 'Sides – I'm buying. You can't turn that down, now can you?"

Vin just shook his head, his smile widening.

Sally's was a nice, an upscale restaurant that hadn't given into the faux-French motif – dark wood, burgundy and green colors and accents, heavy crystal and silver – and good food in large portions. The steaks came with potatoes or rice or vegetables, the salads were mixed greens with toppings that Buck could identify, and the salad dressings were old-fashioned mixtures that Buck loved.

The night had started on edge, Vin pretending everything was fine and Buck was over-reacting, even though Vin sat rigid in the passenger seat, flinching when Buck's hand left the steering wheel. Vin's smile was forced, his laughter a little too long, sometimes a little too loud. Trying a little too hard.

He agreed to the wine, but he was careful not to let himself get ahead of Buck, and by the second glass he was a little more himself.

By the time they had finished with the salads, Buck had reported about Chris' call and Vin had covered much of the afternoon's work with the horses. The topic was a safe one and one that seemed to ground him. As their waitress cleared the salad plates and topped off their wine glasses from the bottle, Buck asked, "You learn to break horses on the Res?"

Vin shrugged, settling back into his chair. "Pretty much. Kojay's wife's people were some of the best horse trainers in the tribe's history. Chanu and I spent lots of time with her folks in the summers. Loved those horses – loved working with them. Probably one of the reasons we didn't get into more trouble than we did was that we spent as much time as we could with the horses. Chanu – he had the touch. He could talk a horse into almost anything. His girls have the same touch."

Buck saw it then, the softening in the big eyes, the rounding of the wide shoulders. He didn't push then, though – he knew which trail he was on.

The steaks were good, garlic potatoes and sautéed squash with onions and mushrooms, and heavy pepper on the side, fresh bread still warm from the oven. They didn't talk as much while they were eating, but the silence now was comfortable, as it had always been between them.

As the steaks vanished and the conversation picked back up, Buck watched close, seeing the softness return every time one of the Reeves was mentioned.

It was there – whatever it was, it was there.

He didn't have to search hard to come up with everything he knew about Chanu and Vin – they'd been brothers of a sort, Kojay, Chanu's father, taking Vin in after Vin's grandfather died. Kojay had sponsored Vin to the tribe, then taken Vin into his own house and raised him with Chanu.

At some point, Chanu and Vin had become lovers. And at some point after that, Vin had fallen in love with Chanu.

Somewhere in all of that, they'd gone into the Army, becoming a sniper team. Then, they'd come home on leave towards the end of their tour, and Chanu had met Claire and Vin had become the odd-man, literally, out.

Chanu and Claire, Vin's closest friends – Chanu had rebuilt Vin's cabin after it had been burned, had promised Vin he could come back any time, he would always be welcome.

But not loved, not the way the he was with Chris and Buck. Vin knew that – Buck had seen the awareness of it work into Vin's soul, into his heart. So it wasn't that, it wasn't in the obvious.

"Chanu called this evening," he said when they had exhausted the latest Ezra-story. "He was returning your call."

Vin startled at that, looking up at Buck with something like worry in his eyes.

Buck smiled at him, picking up the bottle to split what little was left between their two glasses.

"You talk to him?" Vin asked, his tone wary.

Buck shrugged. "What's there to talk about? You said you weren't running away from us – should I doubt that?"

Vin was still for a few seconds, too still, then he took a breath and his eyes dropped to the table. "No," he said simply. "I ain't lying to you."

"No," Buck agreed, "you wouldn't do that." He didn't add the codicil though, that Vin might be lying to himself. But he didn't think that was the case either. In fact, he was beginning to suspect that if anything, Vin was being too honest.

"Chris gonna be back in time?" Vin asked, trying to change the subject.

And there it was, suddenly, the idea coming as clearly as the piece of triple chocolate decadence the waitress was putting in front of Vin.

But how to get to it, he thought, how to ask Vin without driving him away . . .

They chatted some more, little things, the dessert, the brandy that Buck ordered, the beer that he ordered for Vin, the stupid things Buck had done trying to catch skips, the stupid things Vin had done – all the while his brain worked, trying to find it. Somewhere along the way he remembered that Claire and Chanu had been married in September – Vin sent flowers every year, a habit that Buck had thought perverse at first, but now believed was some sort of atonement. Not that Claire knew – or maybe she did, Buck really wasn't sure and he'd never had the balls to ask Vin. Things seemed complicated enough between the three of them – a damn sight more complicated than they'd ever been between Buck and Chris and Sarah.

Of course, he'd not been in love with Chris when Chris had met Sarah – they'd saved all of that for after Chris' life had fallen apart.

He'd never had to watch the most important person in his life walk away from him for someone else. Not even when Vin had come into their lives had he ever doubted Chris' love for him, or his love for Chris.

They'd been on leave, he remembered, Vin and Chanu. And Chanu had gotten out – there it was. Chanu and Claire had gotten married two weeks after Chanu had been discharged. September, late September.

Five months after they'd had leave. Five months after he'd met her.

Five months after Vin's life had gone to hell. Late April.

It wasn't quite that simple, he knew; it was the heart of it, but there was something else, something that was making this year different from the past two.

Buck hadn't lied about paying for dinner, and even though Vin offered, and even tried to pay for his part, Buck distracted him by asking him to call Chris and check in. That gave him a few minutes to think as well.

Vin had gone outside so he could hear the phone; Buck joined him, careful not to be too familiar as he guided the other man toward the car, and listening to Vin's part of the conversation. They had found the apartment that their skip was sleeping in, but he was out, so they were waiting. Vin was talking to JD, as Chris was walking around.

In the car and off the phone, they laughed about Chris being stuck with Ezra and Buck casually mentioned that this was the tenth anniversary of Sarah and Adam's deaths.

He wasn't surprised that Vin knew. Wasn't surprised that Vin didn't wanna talk about it either.

Instead, Vin flipped the radio stations, going through several before finding Springsteen's "Jack and Diane".

After several off-key stanzas that had them both laughing, Vin said, "All right, boy's night out? Where's the wildest place you've ever had sex?"

Buck would have choked, but he managed to catch himself. Vin wanted to talk about sex which was definitely a step in the right direction. If nothing else, it meant he was thinking about it.

"Wildest? You mean – outdoors, wild? Or strange wild?" He kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to spook Vin by leering at him. It was funny, he noted to himself so that he could remember to tell Chris; he hadn't been on behavior this good since he had been with the police force, dealing with the general public. He hadn't made one pass at Vin tonight, kept the flirting to the barest minimum that he could. 'Not about the sex,' Maggie had said.

But the sex was close to it, perhaps too close.

Vin snorted. "You know, most of us don't have categories of 'wild sex' stories, Buck." But he was smiling, so Buck teased back.

"Well, boy, most of you just haven't lived enough. Now, surely you've heard my stories about hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains – "

"Yeah yeah," Vin waved a hand, and Buck noted that it almost touched his thigh, "and the stories about doing it in the lake and under the waterfall – and the one with the bear – "

"That is a fine tale," Buck laughed, pleased despite himself. "So then, you're not talking about the great outdoors? So – didn't I tell you the one about the glass elevator at the Hyatt?"

Vin huffed a breath of laughter at that as well. "I was thinking that you might have some tale that you didn't feel you could share with JD – you know, something really out there."

Buck smiled, as much at Vin's interest as at the story he was going to tell.

"Outer space wild enough for you?" he answered, arching an eyebrow slyly at he glanced at Vin.

"Horse shit," Vin returned, but he was grinning at the idea.

"Nope," Buck shot back, "swear on my mama's chicken salad. Outer space – or close to it as I think we can come this side of the atmosphere." He settled back in the seat, enjoying the drive and the memory. "Primm, Neveda – ever hear of it?"

"Can't say that I have," Vin answered, "though I reckon that's about to change."

Buck chuckled. "There's a whore house there – one of those fantasy places, built like a magic castle. Every room was a different mood, different look. You could be a knight on the grail quest, attended to by fair maidens, or James Bond in one of those round beds with an enemy agent – hell, if you had a fantasy, they could make it happen for you. They advertised themselves as the Disneyland of sex – and they weren't lying." He smiled, remembering some of the rooms he had been in and the things he'd gotten up to.

Thinking about how much fun it'd be to take Chris and Vin there, see if they could get a room. Now – there might be a vacation . . .

"They had a room, though, the SpaceBlast, I think they called it. It was like a space station – black walls on two sides with stars and moons. The bed was shaped like a rocket, and it vibrated like it was taking off – "

"You are so full of shit!" But Vin was laughing, clapping his hands together.

"Shit you not!" Buck countered. "And you shoulda seen the gizmos they had in that room – every kinda vibrator and dildo you could imagine, all shapes and colors – usin' 'em as decorations for the space motif!"

Vin was laughing harder now, and Buck laughed with him.

"Sex in outer space," Vin chuckled. "Only you, Buck."

They were pulling up the long drive to the house, the stars above them as pretty as the ones in Buck's memory. "Your turn, Junior," he said, slowing to a snail's pace so that Vin couldn't plead that they were home. "Tit for tat."

Vin was still laughing, his head rolling against the back of the seat, his long legs stretched out comfortably in front of him. He didn't look as though he had plans to bolt from the car the minute they stopped.

"Wildest place I ever had sex? Hell, after that, it's downright tame."

"Don't matter," Buck countered, easing the car to a stop and putting it into park. He didn't turn the engine off though, letting it idle familiarly in the background. The night was turning cool and the heater was nice and warm on their legs. "Tell me a tale."

Vin rubbed a hand through his hair, but he was still relaxed. "Guess it'd have to be . . ." He let his head fall back against the headrest again, his eyes looking out the window into the night sky as well. "We were in Sarajevo. We'd been up all night, running an op, trying to get to one of the Serb leaders. We'd made the hit, were getting out when some of our guys were spotted and we had to split up. Chanu and I made it down an alleyway, took the first open door we could find. Room was small, no people – hell, it was cold as a bitch, middle of winter. Our lieutenant put us on radio silence with an order to hole up until it was night fall." He smiled slightly, that little twist to his lips, and Buck saw the softness again. "We locked the door, set up as much as we could to protect ourselves, but we were both dog tired. And freezing. There wasn't much of nothing in the room – a desk, a couple of ratty chairs, and an old wooden wardrobe thing – 'bout the size of that armoire in the corner of Chris' bedroom, the one with your winter clothes?"

Buck nodded, shifting in the seat to watch Vin. In the moonlight, his face was cast in shadows, and washed out to a paleness that made him seem like someone else, not the man Buck had been living with for the past three years.

"There was cloth in it – we figured later it was probably table clothes and drapes and things, but they were thick and soft, and we were gonna pull 'em out, you know, wrap up in 'em. But Chanu started thinking, and he came up with the idea for both of us to get inside, kinda sitting, but kinda laying down. It was awkward – and after a while, I lost the feeling in my legs. But it was warm and we both managed to get some sleep. When I woke up, he was pressed up against me, hard as I'd ever felt him. It was the stupidest thing I've probably ever done – know for damned sure it was the stupidest thing he's ever done, but I let him take me right there – hell we could barely move, but it felt so good, him up deep inside me, holding me like that. He didn't even touch me but I came when he did." He smiled, his arms settling around his waist as if mimicking the way Chanu had probably been holding him. "After it got dark and we were making our way out of there, Chanu saw the sign. We'd been hidin' out in a mosque – probably some storage room or something. Don't think Chanu ever forgave himself for that. He didn't take well to stepping on other people's beliefs, not even when we didn't know." His smile was sadder now, and Buck wanted to reach out and touch him, offer – something.

It was an effort not to, but he knew he needed to give Vin his space. If he made the move now, he'd get no farther. So instead, with a levity he didn't quite feel, he said, "Well, hell, Vin, if I'd known you wanted to talk about getting it on in a church, I'd have told you about the time Mattie Nelson and I did it in the confessional at her Catholic church."

Vin turned, staring at him, then snorted. "Smart ass."

"Come on, boy, my ass, brilliant as it is, is getting cold. Let's get another beer and we can keep talking about the best sex we ever had."

They made it inside with Buck telling Vin about his own adventures in the service – his time on the cruiser when there were only 8 women to almost two hundred men, and he ended up with two of those women at the same time; his time in the cockpit of a fighter jet – in flight – with the pilot . . . .

Vin was laughing hard enough not to argue when Buck handed him a beer; they were in the living room, Vin kicked back on the couch with his boots off, his feet on the coffee table. Buck flipped on one of the lamps, but set it on the lowest setting, before falling into one of the room's big chairs.

"Okay okay," Vin rushed, settling back. "We covered the wildest place – and then some – that you've ever had sex. What about . . . the most thrilling?"

"Ain't that about the same thing?" Buck asked, taking a long pull on his beer. It was distracting, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, which was good. The talk, the memories, were bringing on reactions he wasn't sure he needed to be having right now, not until he had this thing with Vin sorted out.

"Not quite," Vin said with a shrug. "You know – thrilling. Kinda kinky, kinda dangerous – gave you the best rush. That sorta thing. Not just place."

Buck shook his head, thinking about how much Vin and JD were alike at times. "You mean like that time I had two guys in the bedroom around the corner, while JD was asleep in here on the couch? And one of those guys was a hardened criminal, wanted by the law?"

Vin nearly choked on his beer and Buck cackled.

"Not counting us," Vin shot back, once he had stopped coughing. In the dim light, Buck could see the blush that tinted his cheeks, making him look like he was fifteen.

"Not counting us . . . " He let his eyes drift around the room, taking it all in as he thought. "Best rush? All-around best rush, not counting us?"

Vin nodded, and Buck closed his eyes. Time to make the play. 'Give and get', his mom had always told him – you wanna get something, you gotta give something. "Jerking off count?" he asked, not surprised at the small grunt of surprise he heard.

"You serious?" Vin asked, and Buck forced his eyes open to look at the other man.

"You want the truth or something else?" he asked, keeping it light, but letting Vin know he wasn't joking about the story.

"Okay," Vin held up his beer bottle, "truth."

Buck nodded, took another pull on his beer, then leaned back and closed his eyes. "Right here in this living room. Me and Chris and Sarah'd been working all day – Chris and I were working on a car, Sarah'd been planting some of her herbs and flowers – hot, sweaty work. She'd opened up a bottle of wine with dinner – nothing fancy, some pasta thing she'd thrown together while Chris and I took turns in the shower. They were real close that day, touching a lot, kissing a lot – I loved to see them like that, but figured it was probably time for me to get a move on." He smiled, thinking of catching them in the kitchen after he'd showered, Chris' arms around Sarah's waist, her head laying back against his shoulder as he'd tried to bend her forward over the counter. They were playing, laughing, and Chris had looked so young. He'd thought he was interrupting something, and had tried to back out the door, but Sarah saw him, laughed harder, and reached out to snag his arm and pull him in.

"But Sarah – she had a way about her. Didn't like for anyone, 'specially someone she cared about, to be alone, and even though I tried to tell her I had a date, she insisted I stay for dinner. Well, one bottle of wine turned into two, then Chris was putting on the soft music and they were dancing, that slow, close dancing that only means one thing. I got up to go, but before I could take a step, Sarah was in my arms, dancing with me, and Chris was laughing and pouring more wine. At some point, Sarah slipped off, kissing me on the cheek and telling me to stay right there on the couch for good luck. She was gone before I could ask – but not before Chris held out the wine bottle and told me they were gonna make a baby that night."

He paused, feeling the catch in his throat. He'd never told this story, he realized, never had anyone to tell it to.

"Damn, Buck," Vin breathed, and there was an awe in his tone that told Buck that he understood. "You . . . right here while they were . . . "

"Felt like I was doing my part," he said, and even though it sounded flip even to his own ears, he meant it. "Laid right in here, listening to them make little Adam."

"Damn," Vin breathed again.

They sat in silence, until the weight of it, the loss, was just a little too close. "But don't tell Chris," he said, this time trying for the joke.

"He don't know?" Vin asked, clearing his own throat.

"Hell no!" Buck snorted. "Would you tell him you'd laid in here jerking off while you were listening to him and someone else – " He stopped, then really did laugh.

And after a few seconds, so did Vin.

"Least me and Chris weren't making babies that night," Buck said when he could talk.

"Y'all sure were trying hard enough," Vin returned. "I understand why you built that new master bedroom – farther away from the living room! And I'd like to remind you, I was on the deck, not here on the couch. Damned hard not to hear you two go at it from out there."

They chuckled and drank, both thinking of the night soon after Vin had come to stay with them when he'd been the one in Buck's place, listening to the two of them go at it.

"Your turn," Buck said after at time. He'd settled back again, but he let his eyes wander over Vin, watching for the signs.

Vin shook his head. "I ain't got nothing to compare to that," he said quietly.

"Ain't no comparison to make," Buck said gently. "But you owe me something – tit for tat."

Vin sighed, took a drink, then settled back. "Chanu and I were home on leave – probably that last time, I think. We'd just come back from nine months in Bosnia, been in a couple of tight places. Really feeling the heat. We'd gotten in late, stayed up later making the rounds. Only person we hadn't seen yet was Kojay, who was still pissed at us for signing up together. We shoulda gotten up early to see him, but we hadn't gotten to bed until after four and, well, we were both so damned tired that it was after nine before either one of us moved. Kojay always checked the barn around noon, so we'd agreed to meet there and try to catch him, you know, at least give him that respect." He shifted, taking another sip on the beer, then resting the bottle on his thigh. Buck suspected that he wasn't the only one having a reaction to the conversation.

"I was out in the barn already when Chanu finally stumbled out. He'd showered, smelled of the fresh soaps that one of his aunts made and we always used – you know, one of those things that you always think is so cheap when you're a kid and everybody else seems to have something better, but that you miss when you ain't got it no more. He came out in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing a bandana around his head even though his hair was so short it looked stupid. But he looked good. Looked damned good walking into the barn, back into the life we'd left. Looked like – " He caught himself, swallowed, and when he continued, Buck saw the effort of it in the rigid muscles of his jaw. "Looked like home. I'd never thought that before, never thought about – well, home I guess. About being safe and wanted."

He took a deep breath, his gaze on the sky through the window beside him. "Don't think neither one of us meant for it to happen – hell, Kojay could have walked in at any time, and it was but a minute after we got ourselves back together that he did. But when Chanu walked into the barn, I wanted him. And I guess he wanted me, 'cause he walked right up to me, knocked the rake out of my hands and had me up against the wall so fast I didn't have time to argue. We didn't kiss much – Chanu didn't like it – but I think I almost died before he let me breathe. He spun me around and slammed me up against the wall, took me hard and dry, but – but . . . " He hesitated, searching for words. "He was so careful with me. I know it sounds wrong – that he could be hard like that, and rough, but he held me like I was something precious, like I could break. And after, he . . . " His voice trailed off, and he swallowed.

Buck waited, listening to the soft sound of Vin breathing. "What did he do?" he murmured, encouraging.

Vin blinked, as if he'd been lost – and perhaps he had been. "Wha – oh, nothing." He smiled, looking down at his beer bottle.

Buck slowly rose then, careful to make sure there were no surprises. It wasn't but a step or two the couch, but he took them slow, giving Vin every chance to throw a defense. When he sat, he sat close but not too close, still giving space. "What'd he do, Vin?" he asked softly, watching Vin's face.

Vin shook his head, rubbing his thumb over the top of his beer bottle. But he spoke, his words as quiet as Buck's had been. "He told me I was something special. Something . . . something worth having."

Buck held out his hand, moving it to rest on Vin's, then gently taking his fingers. "He was right," he said quietly.

Vin's smile spread, but it wasn't a happy one now, or a light one. It was the one that he had used at the beginning of the evening, the 'trying too hard.' "Water under the bridge," he said, and he lifted the bottle to his mouth, tilting his head back to drink. At the same time, he tugged, trying to free the hand that Buck held.

Buck had given distance all night, but now he knew was the wrong time. He waited though, letting Vin swallow, letting him bring the bottle back to rest on his thigh.

"Something special," he muttered. "Two days later, he met Claire. Guess I was something worth having as long as I was in the barn." The bitterness was something Buck had never heard before, not from Vin – and it wasn't something natural to Vin, either. Before Buck could even frame a response, Vin said, "That ain't right, don't listen to me. Ain't fair to Chanu – he never felt the same way I did, and even if he had, we never coulda worked. Too many other things he's got to do."

'It will pass – he will remember that it was never as he thought it was.' Wasn't that how Chanu had put it? 'Never as he thought it was'. The good or the bad, Buck didn't know.

The tension in his hand eased then, and he stopped trying to pull it from Buck's hold. Buck took it as a good sign when Vin's fingers lightly curved around his palm, not quite gripping but almost.

There were too many questions, too many ways to screw up the delicate balance he had right now. But if he waited, he'd lose the moment entirely. "How long were you and he together?" Buck asked, thinking it about as innocuous as he could come up with.

And thinking wrong; Vin looked at him, a certain flare in his eyes. "Together? Hell, we weren't 'together' – not so's anyone coulda known. Kojay knew about is – guess he even knew what I wanted, what I felt. But nobody else did – hell, they'd had be off that Res so fast . . . " He shook his head, staring out the window again. "Always wondered that the words were for what we had – 'fuck buddies', I guess, 'friends with benefits' – any of those things. I always thought it was kinda sick that I always remembered the day I let him fuck me – we'd been jerking each other off since we were old enough to get hard. Kids, you know? I never thought it meant anything, don't think he did either. But one night . . . one night he wanted more, and I gave it." He shook his head, but kept talking, letting the words spill out for what Buck guessed was the first time.

'Give and get'.

"I let him fuck me before I ever went down on him – funny, ain't it. We went straight from jerking each other off to him bending me over a hay bale in the barn. It hurt – but then it felt . . . " He stopped, biting at his lower lip. "I never wanted him to stop. We musta done it four times that night – I was so sore the next day I couldn't ride. Could barely walk. Didn't stop us from doing it that night though. Or every chance we got. April 17." He swallowed, lifted his beer bottle and realized it was empty, then set it down on the side table. "First time he took me was on April 17. And so was the last. I always wondered if he knew that, knew that was our – well, not 'our'. 'My', more like. 'My' anniversary."

"Three years." He wasn't aware he had said it out loud until Vin turned, meeting his eyes.

He made a little noise, the not-laugh. "Never saw it coming," he said quietly. "I thought . . .the way he was that day in the barn, I thought. . . I even tried to tell him how I felt, how I . . . " He looked down, licking at his lips. "Thought maybe that was where I screwed up, by trying to put words to it. Kojay walked in while I was trying to find the right thing, and, well . . . " He shrugged. "I thought Chanu understood – hell, maybe he did and I scared him so bad he took up the first thing – " He stopped, tried to laugh. "Nah, that ain't fair, either. Those two – they'd have found each other. Chanu and I are what we were always supposed to be. Brothers."

His fingers tightened on Buck's then, finally, and he looked back up, straight into Buck's eyes. "Three years, Buck. You're right. We're comin' up on three years, you, me, and Chris. I ain't never had nothing good last longer than that. And if something bad's gonna happen now, I don't want it to hit me out of the blue. Not again."

Buck took a few seconds, getting his anger under control. This wasn't about him, wasn't about Chris. This was the thing in Vin that was older than they were. "That why you're afraid to come with us last night? Afraid it'd be the last time?"

Vin blushed deeper this time, but his lips did the little twist. "Reckon that makes more sense than anything, huh." He sobered then, his eyes bright in the darkness. "I told you before, told you both – it ain't you. It's me, I know it's me. I . . . I'm scared. And the damned worst part to it is I'm too scared to run and too scared to stay."

It lay there between them, the truth in all its shades of grey. Buck saw it, felt the anger and fear and hurt that were his alone, but also the parts that were Vin's. He knew what it was to want something so bad you were afraid to lose it. He had that with Chris – and now, he had it with Vin. But he'd never known wanting something so bad you were afraid to have it. Maybe he'd never been hurt like Vin had, or maybe they were just different kinds of people. Buck wouldn't have turned away from Chris, hadn't even before he'd known Chris felt the same for him, and it pissed him off that Vin might, that Vin had been, in small ways.

He squeezed Vin's hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Vin squirmed a little, as uneasy with affection as ever. Uneasy with this situation entirely.

So Buck did what he did best. "I can't promise you that nothing's gonna happen, Vin – hell, you know that as well as we do, if not better, in some ways. I can't promise you that something won't happen to Chris tonight. I can't promise you that something won't happen to me going down the highway tomorrow."

Vin sighed, closing his eyes for long beat. "I know that," he said, annoyed. "This ain't about – "

"I know what this is about. This is about you thinking you don't deserve to be happy. This is about you thinking that there's some sort of expiration date on love." He pulled, sliding his hand along Vin's arm to draw them closer. "This is about you thinking – once again – that we don't love you as much as you love us. That we wouldn't grieve as much if something happened to you as you would if something happened to either or both of us."

Vin had leaned into him, letting Buck draw them together. But instead of wrapping himself around the other man, Buck clutched Vin's shoulders, holding him still.

"You're right, Vin. This ain't about us, this is about you. It's about you being scared, but worse, it's about you being stupid." Vin tensed, as Buck had expected, but his eyes dropped. "No, look at me – dammit, Vin, look at me." He shook Vin slightly, letting just enough of his own anger bleed through, enough for Vin to see it.

When Vin did meet his eyes, there was a hint of anger there too. "Maybe I ain't smart enough to see how this is gonna keep working," he said flatly. "Maybe I'm waiting for you and Chris to wake up and realize that you're tired of me, or that – "

Buck cut him off, his tone sharp. "Then you're gonna be waiting for a damned long time. We're not tired of you – hell, speaking for myself, there's not a day goes by that I don't miss you more than the day before, not a night goes by I don't want you on one side of me and Chris on the other. We ain't gonna get struck by some stupid stick and realize that you're a toy we've gotten bored with. And we sure as hell ain't gonna find someone to replace you with. That door is closed, Vin. Chris and I weren't looking for you – " he shook Vin a little when Vin opened his mouth to make the obvious point – "but we damned sure aren't going to let this happen again. We weren't looking for you but we found you."

Vin swallowed, looking away until Buck's fingers dug into his flesh, pulling him back.

"Vin?"

"Yeah, I know." It was barely a whisper.

"We might not have been looking for you. Maybe you were our gift the same way Claire was to Chanu." He didn't like putting it in those terms, didn't like the look of pain that flashed across Vin's features, but he did like the symmetry of it. And the point. "Chris and I ain't shopping, but more to the point, we're not taking any more gifts. You're it, Junior. The one and only."

He stared hard into Vin's eyes, wishing he had the connection that Chris did, the ability to stare straight into Vin's soul and make him understand.

But he didn't. He only had one real way to communicate with Vin, and he was going to use it, and Vin, goddammit, was not only going to like it, he was going to understand the point Buck was making.

"Buck?" Vin asked, and Buck saw the confusion and concern.

It almost made him smile. Instead, though, not breaking the eye contact, he leaned forward until his lips were on Vin's.

The kiss was warm, Vin tasting of beer and pepper and the familiar tang that was just him. He didn't resist, opening as Buck applied pressure, taking Buck's tongue as readily as he always did.

But Buck didn't want this easy, didn't want Vin to confuse what he wanted to 'say' with any of the other times they had done this.

He pulled back, slightly annoyed when Vin followed, refusing to break the connection. How like Vin, he thought, to want it now that Buck wanted to slow it down.

He braced his arms, pushing Vin back and off of him; the look of confusion on Vin's face was sharper now, and Buck almost relented. But this was too important.

"You said – about Chanu – that he filled you up, that he'd get up deep inside you and hold you – wasn't that it?"

Vin blinked, the confusion giving way to a sort of sadness. He nodded, swallowing, then mumbled, "It didn't mean anything. Don't go – "

"Don't we do that when we make love you?" he asked, rushing on. "Don't you think what you do with us is different from what you did with Chanu? Aren't we showing you what it's like to be loved?"

Vin stared at him, his agile mind working behind the wide eyes. "I . . . I know you do – no, let me finish." He sat back a little, tugging to be free of Buck's hold.

Buck relented, letting one of his hands slide down Vin's arm to catch his wrist.

"I told you – I know it's just me. I'm scared, and I ain't got no reason to be. But . . . " He took a deep breathe, finding courage, "I ain't never had this much to lose before, Buck. I didn't really think about it, 'til we started talking about breeding Muh-tua, and I realized that everything that's important to me, 'cept Chanu and his family, is here. Here, Buck, not in Wyoming, not somewhere that I can hide it away and keep is safe. Somehow, this place became home to me. Even when Chanu found Claire, I still had a place there, still had something that was mine – I don't mean the land, I don't mean the title on the house – I mean something that was still – me. If something happens 'tween all of us . . . " He shivered then – the fear real. "I could stay there without Chanu loving me the same way I loved him. I could live in that little cabin and be happy – as happy as I knew how to be. But here, without you, without Chris. . . there'd be nothing for me. And . . . I can't go back to that, I can't go back to being that way. I can't go back to what I was in Wyoming. You and Chris – I know what it's like now to feel like this, and I don't know that I could live without it."

The words ran out then, drying up as if he'd exhausted his supply. And maybe, Buck considered, he had; Vin hadn't ever said this much that was this important, not all in one shot.

And it was important, no doubt about it. Vin had just given him his heart, laying it out there on the sofa almost – it couldn't have been more obvious if he'd tied it up with a ribbon.

Or probably more painful. The look on his face now . . .

The shiver from before had nothing on the look of terror on Vin's face now, as if he'd seen his worst fear and it was coming. 'Thought maybe that was where I screwed up, by trying to put words to it' – by trying to tell Chanu how he felt about him. Maybe he was seeing his worst fear coming, expecting Buck and Chris to do what Chanu had done in the wake of seeing Vin's heart laid bare.

He raised his hand from Vin's shoulder and cupped it along his jaw; Vin was trembling again, his nose flaring with each shallow breath, but he didn't move as Buck eased up to him. "If you ain't planning on leaving, and we sure as hell ain't planning on leaving you behind, then I think we're all okay." He slid his arm around Vin's waist, letting his words blow across Vin's lips. "But for what it's worth, you're not feeling anything that I don't feel. And I'm pretty sure I can speak for Chris on that topic as well."

The trembling eased a little, and Vin's eyes closed as he tilted his head up. But Buck didn't give in just yet.

"Nothing to be scared of," he murmured. "We're not going to let you go."

Over the past three years, they'd had sex in every room of the house – especially Buck and Vin together, who could be in the mood at the slightest provocation.

But this wasn't their usual 'sex-for-fun' romp, not tonight. Tonight was about making love.

"Come on," he commanded around Vin's tongue, pushing himself off the couch and pulling Vin up with him. He held Vin close, hanging on as hard to him as Vin was clinging to him. He had a thought of picking Vin up and carrying him – he'd done it before to both Vin and Chris, usually drawing laughter and irritation respectively, but tonight he wanted Vin to have choice and equal control.

"Want to be with you," he said, letting his fingers drift through Vin's hair, holding his head gently so he could speak. "Want to love you. But only if you want it."

Vin pulled in tight against him, his erection almost bruising against Buck's hip. "Ain't that obvious?" he said with a hint of a laugh.

Buck held him still though, searching his eyes. "It's been obvious for a long time that we're good together – that we have a lot of fun together. But you gave me something different tonight, Vin, something far more personal. I know how hard that was for you – and I know how far that fear is from being gone. It's still there, still waiting to pull you down in the middle of the night – or the middle of the day, when you're hiding out in the barn, afraid to come in and find me and Chris talking to some new guy."

The flash of surprise told Buck he knew Vin as well as he thought he did. But right now, it didn't feel like a victory. Despite all they work they'd put into making this thing between them real, Vin still doubted. He could say that it wasn't them, but in its own way, it still was, and that pissed Buck off a little.

"I want tonight to be as good for you as it was that time in the barn with Chanu. I want it to be better, I want you to come away from it with the same feeling you had for those two days afterwards. Because when those two days are up for us, I want you to still feel that way and know it's gonna last, Vin. That what he said was true – you are something special and you are worth having. And we're gonna try to keep you as long as we can. As long as you'll let us."

Vin was blushing again, shaking his head. "Damn, Buck, you don't have to sound like a Hallmark card – "

"I don't. I sound like someone who's being as honest with you as you were with me." He wasn't surprised that his honesty embarrassed Vin – had the same effect Chris, at least in the early days. Chris was, after seven years, getting a little better. Or at least a little better able to ignore it.

Vin was shaking his head still, but he smiled a little.

"Tell me what it takes," Buck said, letting his hands slowly wind down Vin's back. He stopped them when they reached the waistband of Vin's jeans. No pushing, not even a little bit. "You want to make love in the barn? Want to make love in the bed in your room? You want to make love on the kitchen table? In the shower? Right here on the couch? You tell me, Vin." He kissed Vin again, but kept the touch light and easy, not letting himself get drawn into Vin's intensity.

Into Vin's attempts to distract him. He knew them for what they were – Vin was shy now, embarrassed that he'd put so much of himself on the line. That he'd opened himself up.

And that in the process, he'd questioned their honesty. But Buck knew that for what it was – Vin's lack of faith wasn't in them, it was in himself.

Buck didn't do it often, but right now, he damned Chanu with everything he had. As Vin had said, it wasn't fair and it wasn't rational. Chanu was a good man, and truth be told, the harm done to Vin started far earlier than Chanu meeting Claire – earlier than Vin even meeting Chanu, probably.

"Bed's fine," Vin mumbled when Buck once more pulled himself out of range. "Just wanna touch you."

They made it down the hall way, Buck holding Vin's hands in his, his long arms wrapped around Vin's shoulders as he directed him. Vin tried for his room, so Buck took him to the room that they claimed to be Chris' – even though it was, in truth, the one Buck had lived in before he and Chris were – him and Chris.

Vin slowed as they stepped into it, giving no resistance other than his entropy.

Buck nuzzled at his neck as he said, "Gypsies in the palace."

It was a Jimmy Buffet song, one of Buck's favorites; he meant it as a joke, but Vin shifted, uncomfortable. He didn't know quite how to answer, and to Buck that was an answer in itself. "You ain't mooching off us, Vin – hell, you've done more in the past six months to bring in money than I've done in a over a year. But more to the point, Chris ain't gotta be here for you to sleep in that bed. I don't have to be here. Only you." He rocked his hips from side to side, a gentle movement kind of like a slow dance. He was holding Vin so close that he moved as well. "You said you thought of this as home. Then let's treat it like one."

He let go of his hold on Vin, everything but one wrist, which he used to lead Vin to the bed.

Vin didn't resist, nor was he a stranger here; but as Buck guided him to sit on the bed, he looked around as though it were his first time.

Buck knelt between Vin's knees, letting himself be kissed, but not distracted. By the time Vin made noises of resistance again, it was because his shirt was being tugged off and Buck had had to move away.

Like a scrawny puppy, Buck had thought, the runt of the litter. It wasn't just his oral fixation, though, it was need for touch and affection and his wonder at receiving it.

Buck took a moment just to look – he loved the bodies of the two men in his life, both muscular and trim, hard planes and sharp bones. For a while after he and Chris had gotten together, he'd thought that he missed the soft curves of a woman, and from time to time, he did miss holding a firm breast and suckling on a full nipple. But he didn't miss it enough to even think about sacrificing the way his hands fit perfectly around the curve of Vin's ribs, fingers laying in the gentle depressions between the bones, or the way those small brown nubs peaked as his thumbs brushed over them. Or the way Vin moaned at the touch, pushing into it.

Kissing, he thought, his eyes on Vin's lips, Chanu hadn't liked to kiss. What an idiot. Vin's mouth was one of the great wonders of Buck's world.

Kissing alone was Vin's idea of foreplay, and sometimes, most times, enough foreplay. At one level, Buck found it amusing; Vin was ready, willing, and able just from a having a tongue shoved down his throat, which made him almost the perfect lay.

At another level though, he knew it was because Vin had done without sex for long stretches, and good sex for so long, that at first, any sign of affection from them, a touch, a kiss, a slow caress, put him in the mood. It had made Chris uncomfortable at times, not sure if an innocent gesture on his part was gonna result in a two-hour bout of sex – great sex, but distracting and exhausting sex.

Vin wasn't as needy now, as desperate – after three years, he had caught up on his sex-deprivation. Buck had little doubt but that the kissing was almost enough foreplay right now, but he also knew that Vin was using a time-honored ploy, one Buck knew and used himself, to get back to familiar ground. He was trying to use sex to get past the emotion.

He eased back reluctantly, his mouth tingling with the absence of Vin's attentions. "Your tongue's nice, boy, but I want to suck on something bigger." He cupped Vin's erection, knowing the press of cloth against it would make Vin whimper – and it did, a sweet little sound that had Buck working at the button and the zipper with practiced ease.

Getting Vin out of the rest of his clothes was actually not too hard, more a matter of making sure that one hand was always on bare flesh. As he'd expected, Vin became a sort of octopus himself – he always gave as good as he got, rarely letting one of them get ahead of the other in the game. By the time he had Vin naked, Buck's own jeans were open and pushed half way down his thighs, his boxer-briefs clinging just to the width of his hips at their widest point, trapped on his own erection.

"Want you," Vin said, coming in close with that deadly mouth. His hands were reaching as well, one for Buck's shoulder, but the other was moving lower.

Buck was quicker though, catching it before it had a chance to take control of him. "We'll get to that," he said, "but I want something first, want to taste you. You gonna tell me no?" He looked into Vin's eyes, knowing Vin almost never told him 'no' when he asked the right way – and knowing Vin wanted this.

Vin swallowed, but let himself be pushed back onto the bed. Buck hesitated for only a second, then stripped off the rest of his clothes – may as well not have to deal with that later.

Vin was watching him, his desire evident but a sort of nervousness crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Haunted, Buck knew, by words he'd said and memories he couldn't put behind. By the irrational fears that came from being alone too long.

"Back up," he said, stepping up to the bed. When Vin frowned, he gestured, "Up on the bed, Vin, you know how this is done." He grinned, letting his tone speak for his amusement.

He didn't give Vin time to think, going to his knees on the bed, then swooping down in a trick he'd learned from Vin himself, taking the bouncing erection into his mouth and down his throat before Vin was settled fully on his back.

He thought he heard Vin call out his name, but the hands that gripped at his head blocked his ears – which was good in one respect; he didn't have to worry about being distracted by sound.

Prior to Chris, and his realization that he could love another man, he'd had sex with men – but mostly as the one fucking and getting sucked, not as much the other way around. He'd given blow jobs, but he'd rarely appreciated the giving of them, doing it more as a pay-back for what he'd received.

With Chris, he'd learned the joy of giving, learned to enjoy the experience of having another man's sex in his mouth. There was little that made him as happy as having Chris begging him for release, and little that got Chris to that point faster than being licked and sucked and fingered, all at the same time.

Vin wasn't quite as receptive, but Buck didn't think it was because he didn't like it as much; what seemed more likely, especially given what he was learning tonight, was that Vin had a notion of quid pro quo – he had a hard time accepting pleasure unless he was giving it right back.

Right now, he was pulling at Buck, trying to draw him off even as his pelvis knocked up against Buck's chin, pushing deeper. Buck would have laughed if he could have; Vin's dick had a mind of its own, just like Buck's. Pretty much explained why they got along so well most of the time. Pretty much explained why Vin was always so quick to the mark.

He tasted good, musky and tangy, his pre-cum slick on Buck's tongue. He wasn't thick, not like Chris, and the head of his cock didn't set off Buck's gag reflex quite the way Chris' did if he didn't pay enough attention.

Which was good, because right now, he had a few other things on his mind, like sliding his fingers along the soft skin just past Vin's balls, and up into the fuzzy crease between the hard muscles of his perfect ass.

Vin's legs spread wider, an invitation that surprised Buck not in the least. He hummed a little in response, moving his head back so that the flare at the base of Vin's head slipped past his lips, leaving just the tip inside. Vin's back arched, trying to renew the contact, and Buck's index finger brushed over the small entrance to his body.

He teased it, flicking his finger tip over the sensitive pucker while teasing the drooling slit of Vin's cock with the end of his tongue. It was a cheap trick, one he had learned with Chris – but it worked well; Vin was strung tight, wanting to press back to force penetration into his body yet also forward, to force his own penetration into Buck.

The fingers on Buck's head clutched harder and Buck could feel the hum of Vin's moan.

It wasn't a difficult choice; as Vin flexed, his muscles almost shaking with the stress, Buck's finger breached the entrance, slipping carefully inside.

Vin gasped, but pressed down, taking Buck's finger as deep as he could.

And wanting more.

Buck ignored the strong thrusts that alternated between bouncing on his finger and driving the slender cock into his mouth. But it was harder to ignore the painful pull on his ears as Vin worked to get his attention.

"Now," he rasped, pulling himself up to look down into Buck's eyes. "Want you now, Buck."

Buck almost resisted, but the look in those eyes, the sharp command in Vin's tone, drew him up. He gave Vin's cock one long, serious lick as he pulled away and up to his knees. It was easier to reach for the lubricant, but he fumbled a little, searching with his fingers as he didn't want to look anywhere but at Vin.

In the end, he found the tube and sat back, feeling the pulsing in his own cock and panting a little with the intensity of it. This felt like… this felt a lot like the first time with Chris almost seven years ago, when the physical had been so damned good but so much less important than what was going on in his heart. It frustrated him a little that it had taken them three years to get here, but he knew too that there was no way around it; Vin hadn't been willing to give what he'd given Buck tonight, before now. Hadn't been able to just lay himself open, not his body but his soul, his fears and his wants, in a way that made Buck ache with the wanting of it: head, heart, cock, everything he had, everything he was.

Vin sat up, moving as if to turn, until Buck touched his elbow with one slick finger. "Wanna see your face," he murmured, thinking of Chanu taking Vin from behind. "Wanna kiss you when you come, wanna see everything you like and everything you don't."

Vin blushed, shaking his head to let Buck know he was just humoring him, and said, "Not much I don't like from you," but he lay back, pulling a pillow from the head of the bed and bending it up under his lower back.

Giving Buck the perfect angle.

Buck positioned himself so that he was balanced on one arm, leaning over Vin so he could see his face. The fingers he had just coated found the small opening with familiar ease, and it gave access with little resistance.

Buck watched carefully, pushing his fingers in hard but wanting no pain, and Vin showed none. He closed his eyes at first, until Buck tongued along his belly then suckled at his belly button, which always made Vin skittish.

Vin shivered and twisted on Buck's fingers, spreading his legs a little wider. He looked so wanton, spread out like that, and somehow not like he ever had before. Buck got it, then, that there was no tension in Vin, that for three years there had been whenever things got a little serious between them in bed. He eased up onto his knees between Vin's spread legs and added a third finger, still watching,

"Buck," Vin whined, a sound that was rare. "Now."

"Where's the fire?" he asked, knowing the answer as Vin's arms rose above his head, his hands against the headboard. The fire was in the boy's belly, building as Buck worked him, so that he was driving himself down, forcing more penetration.

Buck stilled, not moving his hand. He had to bite back his own groan when Vin only worked harder, arching his back and flexing his legs, fucking himself on Buck's three fingers. He was gasping, his head thrown back in the pillows and tossing, as wanton as Buck had ever seen him.

The fire spread in Buck's belly, his cock throbbing with its own want, and his skin tingled everywhere, a little cool with the air conditioning on, a little cool everywhere except his three fingers, which were hot and wet and surrounded by Vin. He ignored it, though, intrigued by the way Vin was responding to him. It wasn't that it was new – as Vin had demonstrated the night before, he was willing to participate even when he wasn't aroused. In his own way, he was as much a slut for sensation as Buck was.

But something in this, in the way he was opening himself for Buck, not only offering but almost begging, was different .

'Need', he had said earlier today. And again tonight, in different words: 'I know what it's like now to feel like this, and I don't know that I could live without it.'

"Buck, please." The begging again, but Vin's movements were slowing, and he was looking up at Buck, confused.

Buck kissed his belly, a reassurance more than a provocation; the gesture shifted his angle and his fingers slid out some.

Vin moaned at the loss, spread his legs even wider. Need.

Buck eased four fingers into him, enveloped in heat and softness. His own need was growing as well, his cock dripping with commiserate sympathy as his hand turned in the welcoming tightness. His fingers bent, conforming to the soft curve of Vin's body, then brushed over the convex bump that made Vin keen.

Buck smiled at the response, then drew it again as he relaxed then stretched his fingers, hitting the sweet spot.

Vin was arching and thrusting and crying out with the joy of it, his own erection swollen and bouncing against his abdomen. One leg rose, extending so that he could hook his foot on Buck's thigh, trying to pull him in.

But Buck was using his arm now to piston the column of his hand in and out of Vin's body. He had found the angle, so that he was bumping the nub as often as he could. Vin's face showed each contact, his eyes lighting as if the flares of sensation were shooting out through them.

Buck wasn't applying pressure, his hand stopping as his thumb connected with the unyielding pubic bone. But on one forward motion, Vin's hips jerked up, his position changing, and the widest part of Buck's hands, the bridge of his knuckles slipped just through the taut ring of slick flesh. He looked down at his fingers, at Vin's tight-stretched flesh, and froze, seeing how wide Vin was stretched, worried that it might be on the wrong side of pain.

But Vin was staring at him, his eyes wider than Buck had ever seen them before, which was hard for him to believe, and black, the pupils completely dilated.

Not at all in pain.

It would take very little, the idea teased at his mind, just fold his thumb in – it wasn't as if they hadn't stretched him wide before; every now and then, when Vin was feeling particularly adventurous, he'd want to take Chris and Buck at the same time. Didn't happen often – it required some contortion, and afterwards, Vin seemed a little self-conscious about it.

And now, Buck realized, perhaps a little needy too; maybe he was trying to use those times, those combinations of sensations, to forget Chanu. To replace that hurt with the love that they were building here. He pressed a little harder, feeling the tightness around his hand and the spasmodic clenching of Vin's ass the way it always did when he was loving what was being done to him. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed in again, wanting to give Vin more, wanting to see him take more… hesitated, looking up to meet Vin's arousal-darkened eyes.

"Do it," Vin rasped, his voice airy with desire. "God, do it, make me feel you, take away – "

Take away the memory of that last time with Chanu. Take away the fear. Buck saw all the thoughts that blew through Vin's mind, written large and clear on his face.

He glanced down to where they were joined, his thumb rubbing along the soft flesh just under Vin's balls. It would be so easy . . . .

As if of its own volition, his thumb stroked forward, the tip tracing a faint part in the scattered hair before meeting with his own palm. He looked back up, watching the awe on Vin's face as he applied just the slightest pressure, stretching him just that much more.

Sliding the end of his thumb up into the slight wedge, the nail catching for just an instant on the thin skin before slipping through, joining the rest of his fingers.

Vin jerked, pain flashing – then crying out as orgasm shattered him, his body rigid in its throes.

At first, Buck just watched, thrilled at the sight, more thrilled at the fact that he had gotten Vin off just with his hand. And not even all of it. Unconsciously, he wiggled his fingers, and Vin almost screamed, his cock spurting in time to each twitch of Buck's wrist.

The rush, the power of it, the understanding that he was, literally, controlling Vin with the slightest movement of his finger, had him so close to release himself that the stray puff of air created when Vin slumped was almost more than he could take.

He stopped breathing, holding himself rigid and trying not to think of how incredible Vin looked in release, his muscles defined and shimmering with a sheen of sweat, his hair spread over the pillows, his body dotted with splatters and puddles of pearlescent white.

Trying not to think about the supple flesh drawn flush around his hand, contracting in waves that rippled over Buck even now, as Vin's climax ebbed.

Vin's body relaxed, shifting. Buck's hand moved as well, slipping just a bit farther inside. Vin made a little noise, sort of a moan, but he was so relaxed that it didn't seem to be a protest and his cock twitched again.

Buck inhaled, indecisive; he was barely clinging to his control, and most of his instincts urged for taking his own release.

Vin's pleasure was still first priority, but while Buck had edged back from the brink, he was still close enough himself to feel the first twinges of pain.

Vin blinked lazily at him, looking decidedly debauched especially with most of Buck's hand in him. The fact that Buck was slowly working his way deeper into that lush body wasn't helping Buck's control.

"You gonna fuck me now?" he asked with a hint of a smile. "Think I'm stretched enough even for you."

Despite himself, Buck laughed. Vin started to, then kind of sighed instead, his body rolling a little, opening just a little more.

Buck moaned this time, and knew he had to do something. It took a strength of will, especially when Vin realized what he was going to do and tensed, trying to hold Buck in place.

"You gotta give me back my hand," Buck grinned down at him.

"Feels . . ." Vin blinked, still looking sated, "like nothing I ever had before."

"Good?" Buck asked, moving his fingers just a little.

"Great," Vin mumbled, shuddering with the movement. "Intense." He smiled slightly. "Big."

"Full? You get enough yet?" He leaned down, kissing Vin's shoulder even as his arm tugged back.

"Don't know that I can ever get enough of you, Buck. Or Chris." He closed his eyes, wincing a little as the wide expanse of knuckles pulled from the inside. "Right now, I . . ." The wince turned to a grimace and he caught his breath.

Buck almost stopped, but knew better. Stopping wasn't going to make it any more or less painful. Best to keep a slow, even pull.

Vin relaxed as the worst was past, letting out a breath. "Was . . . like when it's you and Chris together. Only, well, deeper. Harder."

"Better?" Buck winced himself now, at the loss of heat and tightness, the incredible completion it had given him.

Vin touched him, his fingers cupping around Buck's jaw. "Don't have you dribbling down my legs yet. Not better."

Buck chuckled, letting Vin pull him into a kiss. "You say the sweetest things," he said around Vin's tongue. Then Vin's arms were around his shoulders, Vin curling up to meet him.

He was balanced on one arm, so it took only a shift of Vin's weight, a turn of his body, and a little momentum, and Buck found himself rolled onto his back with his arms full of a willing lover.

A willing lover whose long legs straddled his hips, then lowered himself so that he was rubbing the length of Buck's cock along the space between his legs.

A willing lover who caught Buck's cock, lined it up, and took it into himself in a languid, sensual move that Buck couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. And he certainly didn't want to.

At some point, it occurred to him that he hadn't lubed himself, that all the slick was what was in Vin. But that concern went by the wayside with the ease of the penetration, the look of satisfaction on Vin's face, the settling of Vin's body on his as he seated himself completely, taking all of Buck's considerable heft.

Those were among his last coherent thoughts as Vin rose as slowly as he had descended, clenching to create a friction that didn't give Buck any slack at all. As the wide flare caught at the entrance, Vin settled slowly back down.

He couldn't help himself – the coil of want in his stomach had wound to the point that he had to move, had to do something. His hips moved on their own, snapping up, driving deep. Vin rode him, taking him even as he caught himself and stopped his glide.

He rose again from the new height, his thighs hard and chiseled with the effort.

And Buck rose too, thrusting once more, working as well for the connection.

Vin took the hint, picking up the pace. He wasn't aroused again, even though he was half-hard, his body trying, his face open in a pleasure almost as vivid as what he had had earlier. His hands worked over Buck's body, teasing his nipples, tracing lines of sweat along his chest and belly, but he mostly worked at letting Buck fuck him as hard and deep as he wanted.

And Buck did. His hands gripped at Vin's hips, keeping him in place as he thrust up, sped up, fought for the gathering release. Somewhere along the way, they slid slower, catching at the hard globes of Vin's ass and pulling them wider, so that he could take Vin even deeper.

Until Vin arched back, all of his weight and focus directed downward to the point of their joining.

It hit wild and random, a blinding explosion that seemed to pull from the bottom of his feet and the ends of his hair, draining him and filling him at the same time. Love, he had told Vin, filling Vin with love, but also himself.

His love for Chris was like their sex – intense and passionate, sometimes irreverent, full of the history they shared, colored in ways with the darkness of their shared loss and grief, and the long history they had, of shared experience and living out of each other's back pockets.

His love for Vin was also like their sex – warm and comfortable, light and easy as a summer day. Vin's pains had been his own, not something he shared with Chris and Buck, not something that wound through the netherworld of their relationship.

Until now.

This new awareness of Vin's history, of his need, added another dimension to the bond between them, a sort of shroud that dimmed the light but at the same time gave it more clarity.

Vin was bent over him, resting on his arms. His head was down and his long hair tickled along Buck's chest.

With effort, Buck pried his hands from the sticky flesh he still held, moving them along the gentle curl of Vin's back, until he was wrapping himself around the other man, drawing him in close.

Vin looked up, his face still holding the softness of satiation and contentment. As Buck applied more pressure to the embrace, Vin lowered himself to lay on Buck's chest, accepting the long, sweet kisses.

Eventually, they disconnected, Buck's cock slipping free. Vin sighed at the loss, and Buck drew back far enough to ask, "Better now?"

Vin snorted a laugh, but let himself be rolled to his side. "Yeah, better now. Ain't nothing as fine as having my thighs stuck together."

Buck moved casually to reach between Vin's legs, letting his fingers slide through the ooze seeping along. He traced it back, the mire thicker as he got closer to the center. But as he neared the opening he knew so well, Vin did something unusual; he tensed and sort of drew away, his legs closing on Buck's hand in a way Buck had never felt before.

Buck bent away so he could look into Vin's eyes, worried and confused. "You hurtin'?"

Vin grinned a little, looking more tired than anything else. "Maybe a little. Not in a bad way. More sensitive, I guess. You know, where you're not real sure you want to be touched too hard." He snuggled into Buck, partly for warmth, Buck suspected, but also for the physical reassurance.

"Or at all?" Buck asked, but he pulled his hand back and away, letting it rub over Vin's hip and back up to gather him close. He felt a warm rush a happiness, then, realizing that now, tonight, Vin felt secure enough, confident enough, to say no, to look to his own need first.

"Should get a shower," Vin said after a minute or so. He followed the statement with a yawn, and then a slow, careful stretch. Buck had his eyes closed, but he could feel when Vin's body caught, knew there was some pain now.

"Hot tub?" he asked, as that was where they tended to end up after one of Vin's more brazen escapades.

"Too late," Vin said around another yawn. "Hot shower should do." He pushed himself up, squeezing Buck's shoulder as he also used it to balance himself.

Buck started to get up with him, but Vin pushed him back with a smile. "Faster if I do it alone," he said. "You get the bed warm for me, I'll bring you back a washcloth."

Buck started to argue, but at that moment, the phone rang. Buck glanced at the bedside clock – after 2 in the morning. Had to be Chris.

Vin handed him the handset then continued on to the bathroom. "Chris?" Buck asked as he heard the shower start.

"Got him," was the response from the other end. "Clean catch, no shots, no guns at all."

"Any injuries at all?" Buck asked, knowing better than to trust that Chris was giving him a full report.

"Not unless you count Ezra's conviction that McDonald's gave him terminal heartburn, and the bruise JD got on his shin when he fell up the stairs at the apartment complex, tripping over his jeans – which are, once again, too long."

Buck snorted, unable to hold the laugh. Chris was definitely a parent. Something had indeed happened when Adam was born – or perhaps, as Buck thought with a certain satisfaction of his own, the night Adam was conceived – that had triggered some parameter in his partner's brain; Chris had all the certitude of the best parents, one based in true concern.

In the light of everything with Vin, the little bit of sadness for Chris stabbed deep. "Love you," he said without a thought.

There was silence for a second on the other end, enough to let him know he had confused Chris. "Buck? Everything there okay?"

"Yeah," he rushed, hearing the anxiety in Chris' tone. "Better than okay, I think."

"You sure? Vin's not –"

"He's fine – well, he's not quite fine, but he will be." Buck glanced to the bathroom door which was open; the shower was still running, steam fogging out into the bedroom.

"You'll tell me?" It wasn't really a question as they both knew the answer. In the background, Buck could hear the sounds of vehicles in low gear, some idling, and he knew they were probably stopped for gas at a truck stop. There were voices in the background but none recognizable, so Ezra, probably, was in the van with the skip while JD was inside paying for the gas and whatever caffeine Chris was getting.

"One of us will. You might should ask him, it's his story. When you gonna be back?"

"Long drive, but we're coming straight through. I called Orrin and he's gonna meet us at the detention center to do the actual hand off. Should be in – what time is it - two? Probably eight or nine." There was a voice close in the background now, and Buck recognized it as JD.

"Don't do all the driving, Chris," he warned. "Your back ain't up to it, and you're already tired. The kid ain't so bad, despite Ez's whining." He glanced again to the bathroom door, the steaming billowing even more now.

"Hell, the way he's been on this trip, I might do it just to hear him whine," Chris groused. "I'd forgotten what a pain in the ass he is."

Buck chuckled, and do did Chris. That told Buck more than words. "You did need this trip, didn't you," he said softly into the phone. "Ten years, Chris."

The silence this time wasn't as awkward or worrisome, and when he did answer, his voice was still relaxed, though a little sad. "I had to make sure I could still see her face," he said softly. "Not in the photos on the mantle, but in my head. Yeah, Buck, I needed the trip. But I'm okay. We're okay."

The shower stopped, a little quicker than necessary. "Yeah," Buck agreed, "we're all okay."

"I'll see you guys in the morning, at least long enough for something before I crash."

Buck smiled and said, "'Something'? Anything in particular, stud?"

Chris sighed, but it was still relaxed. "After twenty-four hours, probably some quiet. Y'all get some sleep, somebody's gonna have to be awake tomorrow. And Buck? Love you too. Tell Vin the same."

They hung up as Vin was stepping out of the bathroom, toweling his hair. He was moving slow, but there didn't seem to be a distinctive limp or discomfort.

"Chris okay?" he asked, catching Buck's eye.

Buck took a second to let his gaze sweep slow over Vin's body – a flirt, but also an actual inventory. He grinned when Vin blushed – things were okay, then.

"He's almost as fine as you are," he answered, his eyes wandering back up to catch Vin's. "Should be here in the morning."

"So they got the kid – never mind, dumb question. Everybody's all right?" He turned back around and stepped to the bathroom door, hanging the towel on the bar just inside.

"Everybody's fine, everything is good – and we're all good, right?" He rose, walking to the bathroom as Vin was coming out, and crowding him back inside. The room was still warm and humid from the shower, and a fine layer of mist covered them instantly. He had already caught Vin around the waist, pulling him close and smearing Vin's own come back across his now-clean belly. "We are good?"

"Yeah," Vin answered, almost shy. "I think we are."

Buck woke hours later, as Chris slid into the bed with them. He was a little surprised to find Vin still with him – it was light outside, and Chris mumbled something about it being just after eight, but Buck didn't worry. Vin shifted, looking groggily over Buck's shoulder and smiling, then easing up to kiss Chris hello before settling back in along Buck's back.

When he woke next, it was almost eleven, and Chris was wrapped around him – even though he swore he never did that sort of thing. Vin was gone this time, and Buck could smell coffee, but the house was silent. He was still for a while, just appreciating having Chris home in one piece, then smiled as he heard the distant snicker of Muh-tua. Both of his men home, where they should be.

*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*&amp;*

Saturday, April 19th

Chris leaned on the fence, watching as Vin led the mares into the barn. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pasture, the shades of green burnished in gold now. There was a breeze, just light enough to stir the leaves on the trees and the tips of the long grass.

It was beautiful, the kind of day that he had proposed to Sarah. The kind of day they would have sat on the deck and held hands and talked about the future.

The kind of day that, for a lot of years, he had hated, the memories haunting him. Even after Buck had started easing him through the pain, he still resented the perfection of this natural beauty.

But somewhere along the way, the good memories had resurrected, still with pain, but not as much.

He watched Vin moving, saw the slight stiffness, but that didn't register as much as the grace. Chris hadn't noticed until now, not consciously, but it had been a sign; for the past several weeks, as Vin had worked more and grown more distant, his body had stopped being his own, stopped being something he was comfortable with. That hadn't been apparent, in contrast. He moved now with the flow Chris had come to appreciate, concise and efficient, one motion rolling effortlessly into the next.

Chris didn't know yet what had happened last night – there hadn't yet been the chance to talk to either of them, but whatever had happened, the mood of the house was different. Better.

And he was too. He hadn't lied to Buck – in truth, he had been more honest that he'd known he could be. The time alone had given him time to think, to remember. And he had remembered. It had hurt, but it had also helped. He could still remember her face, her laugh, her love. He could still remember Adam's cries, both good and bad, the way he loved to run through the yard, wide open, the way he curled around his pillow when he slept.

He could still remember their lives together, their plans, their happiness, and what they had been to each other. He could still feel the pain of their loss and the anger.

In ways, it was still as sharp as ever. But in other ways, it was muted, distant, and while that saddened him, it also reminded him that it was necessary. He couldn't have lasted with the level of pain and grief, and Buck had made him see that. Even before they had fallen in love, Buck's friendship had started the healing process, a long, arduous process that was still on-going.

Vin's love was helping as well.

He stood for along time, watching the first stars appear as daylight faded, thinking of them all. By the time Vin closed up the barn, walking towards him, he was ready to end one anniversary and begin thinking about another.

"You all right?" Vin asked, his voice as soft as the night air. He stopped near, but didn't come too close or make himself too comfortable. Giving Chris space if he needed it.

So unlike Buck in his approach, yet exactly like Buck in his caring.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "You?" He watched, searching for the answer in the other man's body more so than his words.

It came over time, no tensing, just an easy shift into his hip-cocked lean, accompanied by the little twist at the corners of his lips. "Think so. Got a few anniversaries of my own to deal with."

Chris nodded. "Bad ones?"

Vin shrugged, his eyes moving past Chris to the skyline behind him. "Maybe. Good memories and bad memories. Sometimes the good ones are harder than the bad ones." He shrugged, then glanced back to Chris. "Figure I ain't telling you nothing new there."

Chris smiled, shifted to one side, the invitation clear. Vin nodded and walked up, stepping through the gate to come around beside Chris.

"No, you ain't telling me nothing new," Chris picked up the thread of the conversation. "But I figure I might can tell you something you don't know, not yet anyway. Every relationship's different. Every person's different. What I got with Buck, what I got with you, it's different from what I had with Sarah. But that doesn't mean it's not as good. Maybe . . . maybe it's better. I try not to think about that. What I do think about is how I don't ever want to live without it. I can't go back to being what I was after Sarah and Adam died. And I can't go back to living without feeling what I feel for you two."

He wasn't looking at Vin, watching the next few stars appear in the darkness, but he felt Vin turn to look at him. After a few seconds, he heard the small snort that said Vin was amused.

It wasn't what he expected, and it annoyed him, but before he could challenge the other man, Vin said, "You already talked to Buck about what I said last night?"

Chris frowned, turning to meet his eyes. "No. Should I have?"

Vin's smile faded a little, tempering to a soft curve as his features crinkled in a sort of confusion. "You really didn't . . . "

"I slept until about four, Vin, when I got up, Buck was gone. I don't know where he was when I left the house to come up here." He canted his head, watching as Vin swallowed and looked away. "It funny that I can't stomach the thought of living without the two of you?"

Vin shook his head, a small movement. Then he looked back. "You're serious about that? About not wanting to go back?"

He took his hand off the fence and moved to touch Vin's face. "Never wanna lose something I love as much as I love the two of you. Don't wanna lose that feeling."

Vin swallowed, then leaned into the touch. As he had several days ago, he moved against Chris' body, laying his head on Chris' shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was muffled, but Chris understood.

"I told Buck something like that last night," he answered. "Told him a bunch of stuff, but pretty much comes down to the same thing, I guess."

Chris held him tight, closing his eyes, thinking. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on in Vin's mind, the problems – not in specifics, Buck could fill him in on that later, but enough of the issues.

"What we got here," Chris said quietly, "it ain't easy. Takes a lot of time and patience, for all of us." He took a deep breath, but tightened his hold on Vin's waist when the other man shifted, and he knew Vin was going to give him an 'out', a justification for not saying anything more. "Shhhh," he whispered, kissing Vin's temple. "Let me finish. Every day that we're all together makes it harder to go back, harder to even think about it. I know you love us – and I know you know that we love you. Whatever doubts you got, you need to put 'em to bed, Vin. I lost the most important people in my life ten years ago. I've found two other people I don't want to lose. Whatever fear you got, let it go."

Vin clutched at him, pulling him as close as he could. But he didn't tilt his head up to kiss him, making Chris realize that this wasn't about sex. Instead, he turned so that his mouth was close to Chris' ear. "I'm working on it," he said. "I ain't never had what I got with you and Buck, never knew enough to even want something this fine. I don't aim to lose it over my own stupid fear." He leaned his head against Chris', forehead to forehead, cheek to cheek. "I'm sorry if I worried you. You got enough – "

"I'll always worry about you and about Buck. But I'd rather worry about things that are real than about things the two of you dream up that I can't fight." He turned enough to rub his nose along Vin's skin. "I don't like fighting things I can't see. Had enough of that."

He felt the shift of muscles that said Vin was smiling.

A vehicle sounded on the road, more noticeable when it turned and started up the drive.

"Buck's back," Vin murmured, slowly pulling away. "He's bringing ribs."

Chris let him go, stepping back as Vin broke the embrace. "Sounds good."

By the time they made it to the house, Buck was setting the food out on the table. He smiled as they came in, kissing Vin before shooing him off to clean-up, then turning his attention to Chris. That kiss lasted little longer, and was a little deeper.

"Welcome home," Buck murmured in his ear, his hands sliding down Chris' back to rest on the curve of his ass. "Missed ya."

Chris smiled. "When the hell did you have time to miss me? From way the bedroom sheets looked, you two didn't have time to even remember I was gone."

Buck laughed at that. "Ain't no need in you being jealous. I was just doing what you wanted. It was, after all, your bright idea to leave."

Chris wasn't jealous. The three of them were good together.

Ten years, he thought, pulling back enough to look up and catch Buck's eyes. Ten years.

"What?" Buck asked, concern darkening his eyes.

"Seven years we've been together," he said quietly, watching Buck's face as he said the words. "Known each other a damn-sight longer, but been this way, in this relationship, seven years."

Buck smiled, seeming to relax a little, but Chris saw the wariness under it. "Seven wonderful years," he agreed.

"That's about how long Sarah and I were married, did you know that?" It was a stupid question, of course Buck knew that. But maybe Buck didn't know why that would eat at him.

Buck humored him though, nodding, and the wariness grew for a second. He stared at Chris, thinking, and then, with a slight shake of his head, he said, "You ain't getting dumb on me are you, Chris?"

Chris watched him for a few seconds, then smiled. "Maybe. But it's a little close, I guess. Seven years is the longest I've ever had a relationship, Buck. We're about to beat that. Makes me a little . . . "

"Scared?" Buck finished for him. "Seems to be a lot of that going around right now."

Chris looked at him, confused himself now.

But Buck just grinned, shaking his head to some joke only he seemed to know. He leaned in then, wrapping his long arms around Chris and pulling him in close.

"How about you save that worrying for another seven years. Then we can talk about it, all right, stud? Right now, I want to sit down and eat ribs with extra sauce, and then I want to lick sauce off your fingers and lips – yours and Vin's." He kissed Chris then, long and deep.

"Y'all planning on standin' there all night?" Vin called from the table. He was already opening containers and spooning food onto a plate for himself.

Buck laughed and with a squeeze to Chris' shoulders, he broke his grip and pushed Chris toward the table. He made a detour by the fridge, pulling out three bottles of beer which he brought to the table as he joined them.

"April," Buck said, as he took a seat. He twisted the top off his own bottle and held it up. "Today's the 19th," he announced.

Chris shot a look to Vin, who was glancing at him as well. But they both followed suit, opening their bottles and clinking them with Buck's.

Buck smiled at them and continued, "To a day with no anniversaries. Ain't nobody in this house tonight but us, boys, and I want to take full advantage of that."

Chris frowned, confused, but followed along. Apparently, a lot had happened last night, and Buck would have to fill him in. But for right now – for right now, as he sat down at the table, with Vin on one side and Buck on the other, he knew everything he needed to know.

Starting and ending with the two men arguing over the best sauce for ribs. One day he'd tell them that it wasn't what was on the meat, but what he tasted in their mouths afterwards.


End file.
